A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

by 

Walter  B.  Stevens 


.LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


MEMORIAL 

the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 
HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


The  style  of  this  book  is  intended 
by  the  author  to  represent  a  re- 
porter's note  book. 


LINCOLN  ROO. 


founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 
HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


/7 


y 


x 


A  Reporter's  Lincoln 


History  is  not  history  unless 

it  is  the  truth.  — Lincoln 


BY 
WALTER  B.  STEVENS 


Missouri  Historical  Society 

Saint  Louis 

1916 


Edition  limited  to  six  hundred  copies  of  which  this  is 

Nn,      38  ft 


This  Notebook  is  dedicated  to 
CAPTAIN  HENRY  KING, 

whose  intimate  knowledge  of 
Lincoln  dated  from  the  "Lost 
Speech;"  whose  youth  was 
passed  among  relatives  of 
Lincoln ;  whose  appreciation  of 
Lincoln  was  inspiration  to  the 
reporter  for  the  assembling  of 
many  of  these  recollections. 


Copyright,  1916 

by  the 

Missouri  Historical  Society 


They  Knew  Lincoln 

These  recollections  of  Lincoln  were  assembled  in  newspaper 
goings  and  comings.  They  are  plain  tales  told  by  men  and  women 
"who  knew  Lincoln."  In  degree  of  acquaintance  they  range  from 
a  single,  perhaps  casual,  meeting,  to  years  of  intimacy.  In  respect 
to  time,  they  relate  to  Lincoln,  the  clerk  at  New  Salem;  to  Lincoln, 
the  president;  and  to  Lincoln  at  stages  of  his  career  between  the 
clerkship  and  the  presidency. 

New  Salem,  the  settlement  that  was  promising  when  Lincoln 
went  there  to  begin  his  manhood  life,  passed  away  long  ago.  When 
the  site  was  visited  by  the  reporter  not  a  building  was  left.  But 
living  in  and  about  Petersburg,  the  thrifty  little  city  which  succeeded 
New  Salem,  were  men  and  women,  advanced  in  years,  who  remem- 
bered "when  nobody  along  the  Sangamon  could  put  Abe  Lincoln 
on  his  back."  They  told,  from  personal  observation,  how  Lincoln 
took  the  death  of  Ann  Rutledge.  They  described  the  wrestling 
match  between  Lincoln  and  Jack  Armstrong,  the  neighborhood 
champion.  They  heard  Lincoln  read  his  argument  about  the  Bible 
and  saw  his  employer  take  the  paper  from  him  and  burn  it.  They 
recalled  how  Lincoln  saved  Duff  Armstrong  with  an  almanac,  in  a 
murder  trial,  and  Duff  Armstrong,  in  the  flesh,  reformed  and  a 
church  member,  was  there  to  stoutly  assert  that  the  almanac  was 
not  faked. 

After  Lincoln  the  wrestler  and  clerk,  Lincoln  the  surveyor  and 
legislator,  came  Lincoln  the  lawyer  and  Lincoln  the  politician. 
Lincoln  rode  the  eighth  circuit.  Half  a  century  afterwards  his  trail 
was  followed  by  his  lawsuits,  his  stories,  his  homely  sayings.  At 
the  court  towns  on  the  circuit,  people  told  of  Lincoln  from  personal 
recollections. 

Of  Lincoln  sitting  on  the  log  with  the  editors  and  framing  the 
first  platform  of  the  Republican  movement  in  Illinois;  of  Lincoln 
going  fishing  with  a  carryall  full  of  boys;  of  Lincoln  dropping  from 
the  statehouse  window  in  Vandalia  to  break  a  quorum, — of  such 
were  the  recollections.  The  Bloomington  speech  was  "lost,"  but 
perhaps  more  vivid  than  the  forgotten  words  were  the  impressions 
which  listeners  received  and  which  they  described. 

Robert  R.  Hitt,  many  years  Member  of  Congress  from  the 
Freeport,  III.,  district,  took  the  speeches  of  the  Douglas-Lincoln 
joint  debate  for  the  Chicago  Tribune.  During  a  mid-winter  recess 


of  Congress,  Joseph  B.  McCullagh,  editor  of  the  Globe-Democrat, 
sent  his  Washington  correspondent  to  Mr.  Hitt  for  an  interview  on 
the  joint  debates.  Mr.  Hitt  was  not  willing  to  be  quoted  in  direct 
narration.  He  had  preserved  much  that  was  printed  at  the  time  of 
the  debates.  This  material  he  supplemented  with  his  recollection  of 
many  incidents  connected  with  the  historic  meetings.  The  narrative 
was  long.  After  it  was  written  from  the  notes  taken  at  the  talk, 
another  visit  was  made  to  Mr.  Hitt's  library  overlooking  McPherson 
Square.  The  narrative  was  read  at  length.  Mr.  Hitt  made  some 
further  suggestions  which  were  noted.  In  this  form,  approved  by 
Mr.  Hitt,  the  story  of  the  debates  is  given. 

There  were  grayheads  in  Alton  who  saw  Lincoln  and  Shields 
arrive  from  Springfield,  who  marveled  as  the  long,  clattering  sabres 
were  lifted  down  from  the  top  of  the  stagecoach,  who  watched  the 
two  boatloads  of  solemn  looking  men  cross  to  Lincoln-Shields  island 
near  the  Missouri  shore,  and  who  told  how  Lincoln  practiced  lopping 
off  the  willow  twigs  while  the  seconds  measured  the  ground  and 
arranged  preliminaries  for  a  duel. 

These  narratives  include  incidents  which  seemed  trivial  at  the 
time  of  occurrence,  but  which,  later,  had  important  bearing  on  the 
great  career.  Going  to  see  how  his  son  Robert  was  getting  on  at 
Exeter,  in  preparation  for  Harvard,  Lincoln  made  speeches  in  New 
Hngland.  The  next  year  the  eastern  delegates  who  turned  earliest 
from  their  first  choices  to  Lincoln,  in  the  nominating  convention  at 
Chicago,  were  from  the  New  Hngland  localities  where  Lincoln  had 
spoken. 

Reminiscences  of  the  family  life,  given  by  a  favorite  nephew 
who  spent  much  time  in  the  Lincoln  home  at  Springfield  are  more 
satisfying  than  much  that  has  been  given  by  the  biographers. 

From  the  unpublished  store  of  Lincoln  manuscripts  possessed 
by  William  K.  Bixby  have  been  drawn  many  revelations. 

With  no  purpose  to  prove  or  disprove  anything  about  Lincoln, 
but  with  the  sole  intention  to  add  to  the  popular  comprehension  of 
the  Great  American,  these  narratives  have  been  reported. 

W.  B.  S. 


Growing  Days  at  New  Salem 

New  Salem,  the  town  where  Lincoln  tended  store  and  made  his  reputation 
as  the  champion  jumper  and  wrestler,  is  a  reminiscence.  It  was  promising  in 
1833.  Only  the  hill  remains,  from  the  summit  of  which  there  is  a  long  stretch  of 
the  Sangamon  bottom  in  view.  Some  years  ago  might  have  been  seen  the  founda- 
tion timbers  of  the  log  house  in  which  Bill  Berry  and  Abe  Lincoln  kept  the 
grocery.  But  the  old  timbers  have  disappeared,  gone  to  be  manufactured  into 
Lincoln  souvenirs.  The  mill  which  stood  on  the  river  bank  under  the  hill  is  gone. 
It  was  burned  long  ago.  At  this  mill,  according  to  Salem  traditions,  Lincoln 
played  one  of  his  practical  jokes.  He  took  advantage  of  the  absence  of  the  miller 
to  prop  up  in  the  hopper  a  dead  hog  with  an  ear  of  corn  in  its  mouth.  All  Salem, 
except  the  miller,  laughed.  The  miller  felt  scandalized  at  the  insinuation  of 
excessive  toll  "as  the  wheel  went  around." 

The  everlasting  hill,  which  was  the  site  of  New  Salem,  is  there,  but  the  road  to 
the  settlement,  leading  up  a  hollow,  has  been  washed  away.  The  abandoned 
town  site  is  part  of  a  pasture  and  the  only  way  to  reach  it  is  roundabout,  through 
gates  and  up  a  steep  climb.  From  the  height  the  visitor  looks  down  the  side  of 
the  hill  almost  as  steep  as  the  roof  of  a  house.  And  that  descent  was  the  scene  of 
another  Lincoln  joke,  in  which  a  boon  companion,  Jack  Armstrong,  aided  and 
abetted.  One  day  Lincoln  and  Armstrong,  so  the  local  tradition  is  told,  put  an 
old  toper  who  was  sleeping  off  his  potations  into  a  hogshead  and  started  it  roll- 
ing down  the  hill.  About  halfway  the  hogshead  struck  a  stump,  the  head  flew 
out,  the  hoops  burst  and  the  drunken  man  escaped  with  nothing  worse  than  a 
bruise  or  two. 

These  Salem  traditions  are  entertaining,  but  in  connection  with  them  the  fact 
should  be  kept  in  mind  that  when  Abraham  Lincoln  came  to  the  settlement  to 
keep  store  he  was  only  22  years  old.  When  he  was  past  25  he  was  elected  to  the 
Legislature,  moved  to  Springfield  and  began  to  be  a  lawyer.  A  story  of  this  New 
Salem  period  is  that,  having  great  difficulty  in  driving  a  drove  of  hogs  across  a 
bridge,  Lincoln  resorted  to  the  expedient  of  sewing  together  the  eyelids  of  several. 
He  then  started  the  blinded  hogs  ahead  of  those  that  could  see  and  the  drove 
passed  over  the  bridge  without  any  more  trouble.  This  is  one  of  the  stories  of 
Lincoln's  early  manhood  which  has  been  questioned.  It  is  still  told  and  accepted 
in  Petersburg,  the  Menard  County  town  which  grew  as  New  Salem  declined  with 
the  transition  from  river  to  rail.  An  old  lady  with  an  excellent  memory  laughed 
merrily  as  she  declared  her  faith  in  the  tradition  about  the  hogs. 

"I  guess  it  is  true,"  she  said.  "Perhaps  Lincoln  didn't  really  do  the  sewing, 
but  only  made  the  suggestion.  You  know,  we  hadn't  many  bridges  in  those  days. 
We  had  to  drive  the  hogs  across  the  country  to  the  Illinois  River  to  ship  them  to 
market.  .Hogs  weren't  used  to  bridges  and  would  refuse  to  cross.  As  I  heard 
the  story,  Lincoln  proposed  the  sewing  and  it  was  really  done.  Years  after,  when 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  moved  to  Springfield,  this  story  was  told  on  him  here.  I  think 
old  Mr.  Smoot  started  it  as  a  reminiscence  of  Lincoln's  early  life  in  New  Salem. 
Some  of  Lincoln's  Petersburg  friends,  who  didn't  know  so  much  about  the  pioneer 
days,  expressed  disbelief  in  the  story.  They  were  indignant  that  such  things 
should  be  said  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  One  of  them,  a  member  of  the  Killian  family,  I 
think,  went  all  of  the  way  to  Springfield  to  tell  Mr.  Lincoln  what  the  Petersburg 


6  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

people  were  circulating  on  him  and  to  get  a  contradiction.  Mr.  Lincoln  listened 
to  him  and  said:  'Sh-sh — don't  say  another  word  about  it.  That  thing  was  done 
right  on  old  man  Smoot's  place."  So  I  judge  it  must  have  been  a  true  story." 

New  Salem  days  made  an  important  as  well  as  an  interesting  period  in  the 
life  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  They  transformed  the  lanky,  fun-loving  boy  of  22  into 
the  ambitious,  studious  man  of  25.  When  Lincoln  came  to  New  Salem  he  was 
proud  to  win  the  jumping  and  wrestling  matches.  Before  he  went  away  he  was 
writing  his  views  upon  religion.  Development  of  the  mind  was  rapid. 


One  community  in  the  United  States  remembered  the  "ninety-ninth  anniver- 
sary of  the  adoption  of  the  constitution,"  and  celebrated  it  in  1886.  That  place 
was  Petersburg,  the  successor  of  New  Salem.  The  scene  of  the  celebration  was 
the  Menard  County  Fair  Grounds,  in  the  midst  of  fine  Illinois  farms,  some  of  the 
lines  of  which  were  run  by  the  great  liberator  fifty  years  before,  when  he  changed 
his  vocation  from  that  of  grocery  clerk  to  country  surveyor. 

The  celebration  took  the  form  of  a  fish-fry,  a  popular  pastime  of  that  period 
in  that  part  of  Illinois.  Old  residents  could  remember  the  fish-fry  dating  back 
to  Lincoln's  time.  The  fish-fry  was  to  these  people  what  the  barbecue  was  to 
Kentucky.  The  master  of  the  fish-fry  at  the  Petersburg  celebration  came  from 
"over  on  the  Illinois  river."  He  looked  back  upon  twenty  years  of  practice  in 
the  art.  In  a  shed  of  the  fair  grounds  he  set  up  his  rude  furnace,  simply  two  rows 
of  bricks  to  keep  the  huge  pans  above  fire.  A  wagon-load  of  cobs  and  pine  wood 
was  heaped  at  one  end  of  the  furnace.  With  a  boy  to  feed  the  fire  as  he  directed, 
the  fish-frying  chef  was  ready  for  his  work.  The  fish,  croppie  and  bass  and  those 
twin  aboriginals  of  the  Illinois,  the  cat  and  the  buffalo,  were  cleaned,  scraped  and 
cut  into  quarter-pound  sections.  They  were  brought  in  bushel  baskets  and  heaped 
on  a  large  table  in  front  of  the  master.  Then  the  real  expert  work  began.  With 
a  seemingly  careless  hand,  the  master  poured  out  two  bushels  of  meal  on  the 
table  near  the  heap  of  fish.  He  emptied  a  sack  of  salt  upon  the  meal.  He  spread 
two  pounds  of  pepper  over  the  meal  and  the  salt.  With  arms  bared  to  the  elbow, 
he  thoroughly  mixed  the  mess,  and  stirred  the  pieces  of  fish.  He  continued  to 
stir  and  stir  until  every  piece  of  fish  was  well  covered  with  meal  and  seasoning. 
In  the  long  string  of  pans  the  lard  was  beginning  to  smoke  when  the  master 
threw  in  the  fish.  With  a  long  fork  he  moved  from  pan  to  pan,  prodding  and 
turning  and  at  the  same  time  giving  sharp  directions  to  the  fireman. 

The  master  turned  off  his  first  batch  at  ten  o'clock.  For  eight  hours  he  kept 
the  pans  hot.  Every  fifteen  minutes  the  master  delivered  to  the  committee  one 
hundred  pounds  of  fish.  Outside  of  the  frying  shed  was  stretched  a  rope,  in  a 
semi-circle.  Over  this  rope  were  handed  the  loaves  of  bread  and  the  hot  fried 
fish  in  countless  wooden  plates,  hour  after  hour.  Before  sundown  over  3,000 
pounds  of  fish  had  been  served.  This  part  of  Illinois  has  been  famous  for  the 
participation  of  the  gentler  sex  in  politics  ever  since  Lincoln  one  day  about 
1833,  told  Mary  Owens,  as  they  were  going  up  the  hill  west  of  town,  his  poor 
opinion  of  "a  political  woman."  Two  hundred  picnic  parties  spread  their  table 
cloths  under  the  trees  and  furnished  accompaniments  to  the  fried  fish.  All 
Petersburg  society  was  there.  The  wild  and  exuberant  Rock  Creek  boys  came  in 
procession  bearing  a  pole  with  a  much  embarrassed  coon  aloft  and  escorting  a 
gaily  decorated  triumphal  car  filled  to  overflowing  with  lively  girls.  Indian  Creek, 
Athens  and  all  of  the  other  townships  sent  their  delegations. 


Grouting  Days  at  New  Salem  7 

Out  from  the  great  throng  a  member  of  the  committee  led  an  old  gentleman 
to  a  quiet  spot  where  a  wagon  tongue  offered  seating  accommodation  and  said, 
"Uncle  Johnny,  here's  a  reporter.  He  wants  to  see  somebody  who  knew  Mr. 
Lincoln  when  he  lived  here.  You  are  just  the  one  to  talk  to  him." 

And  Uncle  Johnny  Potter,  kindly-faced,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  a  slight 
deafness,  careful  of  his  words,  and  with  a  recollection  of  detail  that  was  marvelous, 
began  to  talk  in  1886  of  things  that  happened  in  1831. 

"The  first  time  I  ever  saw  Abe  Lincoln,"  he  said,  "was  that  summer.  I  was 
just  starting  in  life  myself,  on  my  place  below  here  and  had  a  log  cabin.  In 
front  of  the  house  was  a  tolerably  low  rail  fence  I  had  built,  mebbe  five  rails 
high.  We  had  done  breakfast  a  few  minutes,  when  two  young  men  came  walk- 
ing along  the  road.  One  of  them  was  Abe.  A  man  named  Offut  was  going  to 
start  a  grocery  at  Salem.  That  was  the  town  then,  just  up  the  river  a  couple  of 
miles  above  where  Petersburg  is  now.  Offut  had  engaged  Abe  to  clerk  for  him, 
and  Abe  was  walking  up  to  go  to  work  in  the  store.  He  had  slept  that  night 
at  Clary's  Grove,  and  when  he  and  the  young  man  with  him  got  along  to  my  place 
they  wanted  to  know  if  they  could  get  a  bite  to  eat.  The  old  woman  fixed  them 
up  something,  the  things  were  on  the  table,  and  they  had  their  breakfast.  When 
they  got  through  they  came  out,  and  Abe  straddled  over  that  five-rail  fence  as 
if  it  wasn't  in  the  way  at  all.  I  expect  he  would  have  gone  over  just  as  easy  if 
it  had  been  higher,  for  he  had  powerful  long  legs.  When  he  got  out  to  the  road 
he  turned  and  looked  back  at  the  table,  and  said:  'There's  only  one  egg  left;  I 
believe  I'd  better  make  a  clean  thing  of  it.'  So  he  straddled  the  fence  again,  got 
the  egg  and  went  off — laughing  like  a  boy,  shuffling  the  hot  egg  from  one  hand  to 
the  other  and  then  peeling  and  eating  it.  That  was  the  first  time  I  saw  Abe,  but 
I  saw  a  good  deal  of  him  afterwards,  for  Salem  was  where  we  all  went  to  do  our 
trading." 

"Uncle  Johnny,  tell  him  about  the  wrestling  match  with  father,"  said  a  sturdy, 
middle-aged  man  with  a  pleasant  face.  "You  remember  all  about  that." 

The  speaker  was  Jack  Armstrong,  the  son  of  the  famous  Jack  Armstrong, 
who  was  the  champion  in  all  athletic  sports  in  this  valley  of  the  Sangamon  fifty 
years  before. 

"I  remember  it,"  said  Uncle  Johnny.  "Your  father  was  considered  the  best 
man  in  all  this  country  for  a  scuffle.  In  a  wrestle,  shoulder  or  back  hold,  there 
was  only  now  and  then  a  man  he  couldn't  get  away  with.  When  Lincoln  came 
into  this  country  there  was  a  crowd  called  the  Clary  Grove  boys,  who  pretty 
much  had  their  way,  and  Jack  Armstrong  was  the  leader  among  them.  Most 
every  new  man  who  came  into  the  neighborhood  had  to  be  tried.  Lincoln  was 
pretty  stout  and  the  boys  made  it  up  to  see  what  there  was  in  him.  They  got 
him  to  talking  about  wrestling  one  day,  and  he  said  he  could  throw  any  man 
around  there.  Bill  Clary  kept  at  Lincoln  until  he  got  him  into  a  bet  of  $5.  Then 
he  put  Jack  Armstrong  against  him.  They  were  pretty  well  matched,  but  Abe 
was  a  good  deal  taller  and  could  bend  over  Jack.  They  wrestled  a  good  while, 
and  I  think  Abe  had  thrown  Jack  two  joints  and  was  likely  to  get  him  down. 
Clary,  I  expect,  thought  he  was  in  danger  of  losing  his  money  for  he  called  out: 
'Throw  him  anyway,  Jack.'  At  that  Jack  loosed  his  back  hold  and  grabbed  Abe 
by  the  thigh  and  threw  him  in  a  second.  Abe  got  up  pretty  mad.  He  didn't  say  much, 
but  he  told  somebody  that  if  it  ever  came  right,  he  would  give  Bill  Clary  a  good 
licking.  You  see  the  hold  Jack  took  was  fair  in  a  scuffle,  but  not  in  a  wrestle, 
and  they  were  wrestling.  After  that  Abe  was  considered  one  of  the  Clary's 


8  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

Grove  boys.     I  believe  they  called  him  president  of  their  club.     Abe  and  Jack 
got  to  be  great  friends  and  Abe  used  to  stay  at  Jack's  house." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Jack  Armstrong  of  the  later  generation,  "I've  heard  mother 
tell  many  times  how  she  foxed  Mr.  Lincoln's  pants  when  he  got  to  be  surveyor. 
You  see  the  cloth  wouldn't  last  no  time  out  in  the  brush  and  grass  and  briars 
where  surveyors  had  to  tramp.  So  they  used  to  sew  a  covering  of  buckskin  on 
the  outside  of  the  legs.  That  was  what  was  called  foxing  'em." 


"Abe,"  volunteered  Riley  Potter,  one  of  the  substantial  farmers  of  Menard, 
"was  mighty  handy  at  frolics  and  parties.  Most  of  the  young  people  would  sorter 
hang  back,  but  Abe  had  a  word  for  everybody,  and  especially  for  the  smart  girls. 
There  couldn't  any  of  them  get  the  best  of  him.  He  was  generally  asked  to  help 
wait  on  the  table  and  make  folks  feel  sociable.  One  night  Abe  was  helping  the 
visitors  and  there  was  a  girl  there  who  thought  herself  pretty  smart.  When  Abe 
got  to  her  he  asked  her  if  he  should  help  her.  She  said  she'd  take  something. 
Abe,  he  filled  up  her  plate  pretty  well,  and  when  he  passed  it  to  her  she  says, 
quite  pert  and  sharp,  'Well,  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  didn't  want  a  cart-load.'  Abe  never 
let  on  that  he  heard  her,  but  went  on  helping  the  others.  By  and  by  Liddy  got 
through,  and  when  Abe  came  around  her  way  again  she  said  she  believed  she'd 
take  a  little  more.  'All  right,  Miss  Liddy,'  says  Abe  loud  enough  for  the  whole 
room  to  hear,  'back  up  your  cart  and  I'll  fill  it  again.'  Of  course  there  was  a  big 
laugh.  Liddy  felt  awful  bad  about  it.  She  went  off  by  herself  and  cried  the  whole 
evening." 

Uncle  Johnny  smiled  and  shook  his  head  when  he  was  asked  if  "Honest  Abe" 
was  the  name  given  Mr.  Lincoln  in  Salem  days.  "I  think,"  he  said,  "the  most  of 
us  had  more  confidence  in  Abe's  smartness  than  in  his  honesty.  When  Abe  ran 
for  the  Legislature,  the  time  he  was  elected,  Ned  Potter  and  Hugh  Armstrong 
had  a  pledge  from  him  that  he  would  try  to  get  us  cut  off  and  made  into  a  new 
county.  You  know  this  used  to  be  a  part  of  Sangamon.  The  division  was  the 
big  question.  We  elected  Abe  on  the  Whig  ticket,  although  the  Democrats  had 
the  majority.  Well,  he  put  our  petition  in  his  pocket  and  didn't  do  anything  for 
us.  That  is  the  way  I  recollect  it.  Afterward  they  cut  us  off  and  made  this 
Menard  County.  Folks  felt  pretty  sore  about  the  way  Lincoln  did.  He  never 
came  back  here  to  live,  but  settled  in  Springfield  and  practiced  law." 


Lincoln  could  jump  as  well  as  wrestle.  During  the  time  that  he  clerked  at 
the  store  in  Salem,  Lincoln  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  father  of  William  B. 
Thompson  of  the  St.  Louis  bar.  At  Beardstown  was  located  the  house  of  Knapp, 
Pogue  &  Co.,  in  those  days  the  largest  distributing  store  in  that  part  of  Illinois. 
The  stocks  of  goods  were  brought  up  the  river  by  steamboat  to  Beardstown,  and 
thence  sent  out  to  the  small  stores  in  the  towns  and  neighborhoods  of  several 
counties.  The  clothing,  the  groceries  and  the  other  supplies  reached  the  farmers 
by  that  method.  A  junior  partner  in  the  Beardstown  house  was  the  father  of 
Mr.  Thompson.  It  was  his  business  to  visit  the  scattered  stores  in  the  interest 
of  his  firm.  That  the  elder  Thompson  was  a  good  deal  of  an  athlete  added  to  his 
prestige  with  the  country  people  he  met  on  his  rounds.  Coming  to  the  New 
Salem  store,  Mr.  Thompson  met  for  the  first  time  Abraham  Lincoln.  As  he  rode 
up,  he  noted  the  number  of  horses  hitched  to  the  rack,  and  saw  that  the  farmers 
were  engaged  in  the  popular  amusement  of  "three  jumps."  This  was  an  athletic 


Growing  Days  at  New  Salem  9 

performance  in  which  Mr.  Thompson  excelled.  The  young  merchant  from 
Beardstown  lost  no  time  getting  into  the  game.  He  was  astonished  to  see  the 
new  clerk,  whom  everybody  called  "Abe,"  toe  the  mark,  swing  forward  in  three 
standing  jumps  and  pass  his  own  scratch  by  some  inches.  As  Mr.  Thompson 
told  the  story  afterward,  this  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  been  beaten  at 
"three  jumps." 

An  acquaintance  between  the  young  merchant  and  the  young  clerk  ripened 
into  friendship.  Mr.  Lincoln  confided  to  Mr.  Thompson  his  ambition  to  do  some- 
thing more  than  to  jump,  and  to  be  something  more  than  a  clerk  in  a  country 
store.  He  said  he  had  formed  the  purpose  to  study  law  and  to  be  a  lawyer.  He 
asked  Mr.  Thompson  to  lend  him  books.  Returning  home  from  New  Salem  the 
merchant  told  of  this  champion  jumper  who  wanted  to  borrow  books,  and  said 
to  his  friends  that  he  had  never  met  with  any  other  man  who  was  so  anxious  to 
read  and  to  inform  himself  as  was  young  Abe  Lincoln.  And  after  subsequent 
meetings,  Mr.  Thompson  expressed  to  acquaintances  his  conviction  that  Mr. 
Lincoln  would  become  one  of  the  best  self-educated  men  in  the  country.  In  after 
years  Mr.  Lincoln  was  often  the  guest  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Thompson  in  Virginia, 
111.,  when  he  was  attending  court  at  that  town. 


In  one  of  the  joint  debates  Senator  Douglas  referred  to  Lincoln's  clerking 
days  at  New  Salem.  He  may  have  meant  to  be  magnanimous  in  a  patronizing 
way,  but  he  really  held  Lincoln  up  to  ridicule  for  what  he  had  done  twenty-six 
years  before.  Douglas  was  making  his  opening  speech  in  the  debate  at  Ottawa 
when  he  said: 

"I  mean  nothing  personally  disrespectful  or  unkind  to  that  gentleman.  I 
have  known  him  for  nearly  twenty-five  years.  There  were  many  points  of 
sympathy  between  us  when  we  first  got  acquainted.  We  were  both  compara- 
tively boys,  and  both  struggling  with  poverty  in  a  strange  land.  I  was  a  school- 
teacher in  the  Town  of  Winchester  and  he  a  flourishing  grocery  keeper  in  the 
Town  of  Salem.  (Applause  and  laughter.)  He  was  more  successful  in  his 
occupation  than  I  was  in  mine,  and  hence  more  fortunate  in  this  world's  goods. 
Lincoln  is  one  of  those  peculiar  men  who  perform  with  admirable  skill  every- 
thing which  they  undertake.  I  made  as  good  a  school-teacher  as  I  could,  and 
when  a  cabinet  maker  I  made  a  good  bedstead  and  table,  although  my  old  boss 
said  I  succeeded  better  with  bureaus  and  secretaries  than  anything  else.  (Cheers.) 
But  I  believe  that  Lincoln  was  always  more  successful  in  business  than  I,  for 
his  business  enabled  him  to  get  in  the  Legislature.  I  met  him  there,  however, 
and  had  a  sympathy  with  him  because  of  the  uphill  struggle  we  both  had  in 
life.  He  was  then  just  as  good  at  telling  an  anecdote  as  now.  He  could  beat 
any  of  the  boys  wrestling  or  running  a  footrace,  in  pitching  quoits  or  tossing  a 
copper;  could  ruin  more  liquor  than  all  the  boys  in  town  together.  (Uproarious 
laughter.)  And  the  dignity  with  which  he  presided  at  a  horse  race  or  a  fist  fight 
excited  the  admiration  and  won  the  praise  of  everybody  that  was  present  and 
participated." 

When  Mr.  Lincoln's  turn  came  he  made  but  the  briefest  reply  to  what  Senator 
Douglas  had  told  about  Salem  days.  He  said  only: 

"The  judge  is  woefully  at  fault  again  about  his  early  friend  being  a  grocery 
keeper.  I  don't  know  that  it  would  be  a  great  sin  if  I  had,  but  he  is  mistaken. 
Lincoln  never  kept  a  grocery  in  his  life.  It  is  true  that  Lincoln  did  work  the 
latter  part  of  one  winter  at  a  little  stillhouse  up  at  the  head  of  the  hollow." 


10  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

With  these  few  words  of  personal  answer  to  Douglas,  Lincoln  plunged  into 
the  discussion  of  the  great  national  issue  of  that  campaign. 


New  Salem  folks  of  Lincoln's  time  were  not  numerous  in  1886.  Mrs.  Samuel 
Hill,  who  was  the  wife  of  the  principal  store-keeper,  was  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting of  the  survivors.  Of  the  best  Kentucky  stock,  she  was  a  hale,  vigorous  old 
lady,  and  her  memory  of  those  days  was  still  vivid.  She  lived  in  one  of 
the  pleasant  residences  of  Petersburg,  back  on  the  bluff  overlooking  the  valley. 

Sitting  before  a  wood  fire  in  her  comfortable  parlor,  Mrs.  Hill  let  her  memory 
go  back  fifty  years  and  more  to  call  up  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Lincoln  on  the 
streets  of  Salem. 

"He  went  about  a  good  deal  of  the  time  without  any  hat,"  she  said.  "His 
hair  was  long.  His  yellow  tow-linen  pants  he  usually  wore  rolled  up  one  leg 
and  down  the  other.  Many  years  afterward,  when  he  was  a  candidate  for  the 
presidency,  the  recollection  of  how  he  looked  in  Salem  would  come  up  and 
make  me  laugh  in  spite  of  myself." 

"I  don't  think  Mr.  Lincoln  was  overindustrious,"  Mrs.  Hill  continued.  "My 
husband  kept  the  principal  store  in  Salem,  and  we  lived  in  a  little  house  close 
by.  We  had  no  cellar,  and  Mr.  Hill  cut  a  door  in  the  rear  so  that  I  used  the 
store  cellar.  The  store  was  a  great  gathering  place  for  all  the  neighborhood. 
When  I  would  be  in  the  cellar  churning,  or  attending  to  some  household  matter, 
I  could  almost  always  hear  Mr.  Lincoln's  voice  and  the  crowd  laughing.  In  front 
of  the  store  was  a  kind  of  shed  or  porch  where  the  people  collected  in  warm 
weather.  I  could  generally  see  Mr.  Lincoln  about  when  I  looked  out.  He  didn't 
do  much.  His  living  and  his  clothes  cost  little.  He  liked  company,  and  would 
talk  to  everybody,  and  entertain  them  and  himself." 

The  conversation  turned  upon  Lincoln's  early  love  affairs,  and  Mrs.  Hill  was 
asked  about  the  story  of  Ann  Rutledge,  over  whose  death  Lincoln's  mind,  it  was 
claimed,  became  unhinged. 

"Lincoln,"  said  Mrs.  Hill,  "visited  at  the  Rutledges,  and  he  may  have  thought 
a  good  deal  of  Ann.  She  died  of  consumption,  and  after  her  death  there  was  a 
long  rainy  spell.  Some  of  Lincoln's  friends  at  that  time  thought  he  was  a  little 
unbalanced,  or  at  any  rate  they  were  afraid  he  would  become  so.  I  never  thought 
he  was  so  deeply  interested  in  Ann  Rutledge,  for  it  wasn't  very  long  after  she 
died  until  he  was  courting  Mary  Owens.  Mary  came  from  Kentucky  to  visit 
her  sister,  Betsy  Abies,  who  was  Bennett  Abies'  wife.  They  lived  near  Salem. 
Lincoln  was  at  Bennett  Abies'  a  good  deal,  and  Betsy,  who  was  a  great  talker, 
and  sometimes  said  more  than  she  ought,  perhaps  had  told  Lincoln  she  was  going 
to  bring  her  sister  up  from  Kentucky  to  marry  him.  When  Mary  arrived  Lincoln 
told  some  one  he  was  intimate  with  that  he  supposed  Mrs.  Abies'  sister  had  come 
up  to  catch  him,  but  he'd  show  her  a  thing  or  two.  This  friend  of  Lincoln's  was 
also  a  great  friend  of  the  Abies  family,  and  it  wasn't  long  until  Mary  heard  just 
what  Lincoln  had  said.  Then  she  said  she  would  teach  him  a  lesson,  and  she 
did,  too.  I  don't  think  they  ever  became  really  engaged,  for  Mary  was  a  woman 
of  too  much  character  to  go  as  far  as  that,  and  I  don't  think  she  ever  got  very 
much  in  earnest.  She  told  me  once  that  she  didn't.  But  Mr.  Lincoln  thought  a  great 
deal  of  her,  I  expect.  He  used  to  write  to  her  long  after  he  went  to  Springfield. 
She  finally  moved  to  Weston,  in  Platte  County,  Mo.,  and  became  the  wife  of  a 
Mr.  Vineyard.  Mr.  Ben  Vineyard,  the  lawyer  in  St.  Joseph,  is  a  son  of  hers." 


Growing  Days  at  New  Salem  11 

Lincoln  went  to  the  Blackhawk  war  and  became  a  captain  of  the  volunteer 
company  raised  in  the  Salem  neighborhood.  In  the  four  years  after  he  came 
trudging  into  the  Salem  community,  straddling  the  rail  fence  and  making  a  "clean 
thing"  of  the  breakfast  at  Uncle  Johnny  Potter's,  he  followed  surveying,  read  law 
and  was  a  successful  candidate  for  the  Legislature.  Notwithstanding  his 
sociability,  the  years  from  22  to  25  had  been  improved.  That  first  election  to 
the  Legislature,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  was  on  the  Whig  ticket  in  a  district 
where  the  Democrats  were  in  the  majority.  Lincoln  was  learning  politics  as 
well  as  a  great  deal  else  in  the  days  at  Salem. 

J.  F.  Willson  of  Tallula,  near  Petersburg,  recalled  an  incident  of  Lincoln's 
surveying.  A  line  was  being  run  not  far  from  where  the  town  of  Tallula  is  now. 

"It  struck  a  sugar  tree  in  the  center,"  Mr.  Willson  said.  "As  was  the  custom 
with  the  surveyors  of  that  time,  the  tree  was  marked  with  three  hacks  'fore  and 
aft,'  as  the  description  ran.  Some  one  of  the  chain  carriers  bantered  the  party 
to  show  who  could  make  the  highest  hack  on  the  trunk  of  the  tree.  After  the 
others  had  done  their  best,  Lincoln  took  the  ax  handle  by  the  end,  and,  reach- 
ing up,  made  a  hack  much  higher  than  any  other  member  of  the  party.  The  tree 
stood  for  more  than  thirty  years  afterwards,  and  was  pointed  out  to  visitors  with 
Lincoln's  high  hack  upon  it.  That  tree  fell  soon  after  Lincoln  was  assassinated. 
I  am  not  superstitious.  I  only  mention  the  coincidence." 

Papers  which  Lincoln  made  out  while  he  was  surveying  were  preserved  for 
many  years  by  the  residents  of  Menard  County,  then  Sangamon.  The  Lincoln 
souvenir  collectors  and  the  historical  societies  have  gradually  gathered  most  of 
these  relics.  The  plat  of  the  town  of  Bath  was  perhaps  the  most  important  of 
Lincoln's  surveying  jobs. 

Upon  "Lincoln,  the  rail-splitter."  the  Douglas  men  rang  the  changes  through 
the  senatorial  campaign  of  1858.  Two  years  later  Republicans  accepted  the  chal- 
lenge and  exploited  "Lincoln,  the  rail-splitter,"  in  convention  and  in  campaign 
with  speech  and  song  and  story  and  emblem.  Then  the  biographers,  one  after 
another,  made  much  of  "Lincoln,  the  rail-splitter."  The  winter  he  was  21  Abra- 
ham Lincoln  did  split  rails  on  his  Uncle  Hank's  farm,  near  Decatur.  He  got  50 
cents  a  hundred.  Of  that  job  he  told  when  he  was  asked  about  his  rail-splitting 
experiences.  Coming  back  from  a  trip  with  a  boat  load  of  corn  and  pork  to 
New  Orleans,  Lincoln  entered  upon  his  Salem  days.  Uncle  Johnny  Potter  was 
for  many  years  regarded  as  the  best  authority  on  traditions  of  Lincoln's  life  at 
Salem.  He  could  not  remember  that  there  was  much  rail-splitting. 

"Lincoln  may  have  helped  split  rails  when  he  was  visiting  some  of  the  neigh- 
bors." Uncle  Johnny  would  say,  when  asked,  "but  he  didn't  make  his  living  by 
it,  as  they  said  afterwards,  when  he  was  running  for  president.  I  believe  Abe 
and  George  Close  took  a  job  to  cut  1000  rails  for  somebody  over  the  river  one 
time,  but  that  is  about  the  only  time  I  remember  of  Lincoln's  splitting  rails." 


The  traditions  go  to  show  that  Lincoln  did  a  variety  of  work  while  he  lived 
among  the  Salem  people,  clerking  in  the  stores,  helping  on  the  farms  in  the  busy 
seasons  and  surveying  as  the  country  was  settled  and  farmers  wanted  the  lines 
run.  And  all  of  the  time  that  he  was  living  the  life  of  the  neighborhood  he  was 
reading,  studying  and  thinking.  This  thinking  was  along  original  lines.  It  was 
speculative.  It  showed  the  mental  activity  of  the  young  man.  That  is  the  most 
that  should  be  said  of  it.  As  the  result  of  his  thinking  Lincoln  advanced  views 
or  suggestions  which  formed  the  basis  for  one  of  the  Salem  traditions  that  he  was 


12  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

an  infidel.  He  was  a  Bible  student  at  the  time.  One  day  he  startled  the  crowd 
gathered  in  the  principal  store  of  Salem  by  producing  the  manuscript  and  reading 
his  argument  that  the  Bible,  as  a  whole,  was  not  to  be  believed.  He  asked  the 
advice  of  his  listeners  whether  the  paper  should  be  printed.  The  keeper  of  the 
store,  Mr.  Hill,  who  had  employed  Lincoln  as  a  clerk  when  he  needed  help,  looked 
upon  him  as  he  might  upon  a  younger  brother.  He  very  promptly  replied  to  the 
argument  by  saying: 

"Look  here,  Abe.  The  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  burn  that  and  not  tell 
anybody  you  ever  wrote  it." 

With  that  Mr.  Hill  took  the  manuscript  from  Lincoln's  hand  and  threw  it 
into  the  fire.  It  is  not  remembered  that  Lincoln  was  particularly  disturbed  by 
this  summary  disposition  of  his  argument.  The  traditions  do  not  evidence  that 
he  had  reached  settled  convictions  on  religion.  He  started  discussion,  however, 
in  the  little  community,  and  that  was  what  he  liked  very  much  to  do.  The  wife 
of  the  man  who  had  burned  the  argument  asked  Lincoln,  "Do  you  really  believe 
there  isn't  any  future  state?"  And  Lincoln,  so  Mrs.  Hill  told,  replied.  "Mrs.  Hill, 
I'm  afraid  there  isn't.  It  isn't  a  pleasant  thing  to  think  that  when  we  die  that  is 
the  last  of  us."  Mrs.  Hill  thought  this  unsettled  view  of  religion  underwent  a 
change  after  Lincoln  moved  to  Springfield.  Upon  such  incidents  as  this  in  his 
Salem  days  the  controversialists,  after  Lincoln  died,  built  varying  opinions  as  to 
what  he  thought  about  religion. 


Giants  in  Those  Days 


Frederick  W.  Lehmann  of  St.  Louis,  one-time  solicitor  general  of  the  United 
States,  said  of  the  "remarkable  company  of  men  that  followed  the  procession  of 
the  courts  in  Illinois  when  Lincoln  rode  the  circuit: 

"There  were  no  great  corporation  lawyers,  there  was  not  any  great  corpora- 
tion business,  but  there  was  that  which  would  tend  to  develop  and  tend  to  refine 
more  than  the  exigencies  of  mere  commerce  would  do,  and  that  was  the  dis- 
cussion of  matters  involving  the  human  heart  and  human  interests.  A  friend 
of  mine  speaking  at  a  banquet  in  Chicago  had  been  assigned  to  speak  of  the  old 
bar  of  Illinois.  His  father  had  kept  a  hotel  at  Bloomington,  and  he  took  as  the 
subject  of  his  discourse  a  page  of  his  father's  hotel  register  on  the  opening  day 
of  a  term  of  the  court  at  Bloomington.  There  was  nothing  exceptional  in  the 
occasion;  there  were  none  present  except  those  who  followed  the  judges  in 
their  regular  ride  of  the  circuit.  Among  the  not  more  than  fifteen  men  upon  the 
register  of  that  day  were  James  McDougall,  who  became  United  States  senator 
from  California;  James  Shields,  general  in  two  wars  and  senator  from  three 
states;  E.  D.  Baker,  a  major  general  in  the  Civil  War  and  senator  from  Oregon; 
Lyman  Trumbull,  United  States  senator,  and  author  of  the  amendment  of  the 
constitution  abolishing  slavery;  David  Davis,  a  United  States  senator  and  justice 
of  the  Supreme  Court;  O.  H.  Browning,  who  became  a  cabinet  officer;  Stephen 
A.  Douglas,  a  United  States  senator,  and  later  candidate  for  the  presidency,  and 
Abraham  Lincoln.  Such  men  as  these  in  that  small  and  undistinguished  group 
of  country  lawyers." 


How  He  Broke  the  Quorum 

The  grievance  of  Vandalia  agaist  Abraham  Lincoln  has  been  ameliorated  by 
time.  It  was  acute  seventy-five  years  ago.  At  that  time  the  residents  of  the 
ancient  capital  of  Illinois  did  not  smile  as  they  gazed  at  the  windows  of  the  room 
in  which  the  representatives  sat.  One  window  in  particular  became  historic.  It 
is  there  to-day,  the  sill  about  14  feet  from  the  ground.  Three  generations  of  Van- 
dalians  and  thousands  of  visitors  have  stood  in  the  courthouse  yard  and  along 
the  street,  imagining  how  Lincoln  looked  as  he  hung  by  his  long  arms  from  that 
window  sill,  and  how  far  his  long  legs  had  to  drop  to  reach  the  ground. 

Vandalia  was  the  capital  of  Illinois  a  score  of  years.  The  seat  of  government 
was  moved  from  Kaskaskia  because  immigration  was  settling  the  Wabash  and 
the  Sangamon  regions.  Vandalia  was  chosen  by  a  commission  under  an  act 
which  made  the  new  location  the  capital  for  twenty  years.  At  the  expiration  of 
that  period  the  Legislature  was  required  to  determine  whether  Vandalia  or  some 
other  place  should  be  the  capital  for  the  next  two  decades. 

The  old  Illinois  Statehouse  of  1830  became  Vandalia's  Courthouse.  It  stands  in 
about  the  same  form  of  architecture  it  did  three-quarters  of  a  century  ago,  with 
the  massive  columns  and  the  spacious  portico,  which  were  considered  indispens- 
able in  capitol  buildings.  Stone  sills  have  been  substituted  for  the  wooden 
beneath  the  windows.  The  interior  has  undergone  some  subdivision  and  modern- 
izing to  make  a  convenient  county  courthouse.  But  the  old  residents  can  still 
show  where  the  two  branches  of  the  Legislature  met  that  memorable  winter  when 
Vandalia  was  trying  to  hold  the  capital,  and  when  Springfield  was  trying  to 
capture  it. 

There  were  giants  in  those  days.  Sangamon  County  had  sent  to  the  Legisla- 
ture that  session  two  state  senators  and  seven  representatives.  Springfield  had 
picked  her  best  politicians  for  the  supreme  effort  at  capital  moving.  The  com- 
bined stature  of  the  Sangamon  delegation  was  55  feet.  "The  long  nine"  as  they 
were  called,  stood  for  Springfield's  hopes.  Lincoln  furnished  6  feet  and  4  inches 
of  the  aggregate.  He  was  about  25  years  old,  comparatively  unknown  to  the 
Springfield  people  who  had  made  up  the  delegation.  His  election  seems  to  have 
been  a  result  not  contemplated  in  the  capital-moving  programme.  It  came  about 
largely  by  reason  of  a  local  issue  in  Sangamon.  The  northwest  part  of  Sangamon, 
where  Lincoln  had  been  living  for  years  while  he  clerked  and  surveyed  and  helped 
on  the  farms  and  pursued  his  reading  and  studying,  desired  to  be  cut  off  from 
Sangamon,  and  to  be  made  a  separate  county.  The  movement  was  popular  along 
the  lower  Sangamon.  Water  lines  were  trade  routes.  These  neighbors  of  Lin- 
coln looked  to  the  Illinois  river  for  their  commercial  relations  with  the  rest  of 
the  world.  They  had  little  interest  in  Springfield.  Hugh  Armstrong  and  Ned 
Potter  were  political  leaders  in  that  part  of  Sangamon.  They  got  up  a  petition  to 
have  what  is  now  Menard  County  cut  off,  took  from  Lincoln  a  pledge  that  he 
would  make  it  his  business  to  obtain  this  legislation  if  it  was  possible,  and  then 
ran  him  as  their  candidate.  The  settlements  along  the  Sangamon  in  that  part  of 
the  county  were  strongly  Democratic,  but  on  the  issue  of  separation  Lincoln, 
although  a  Whig,  was  elected  and  became  one  of  "the  long  nine."  He  was  new 
in  politics.  Before  the  fight  for  the  capital  ended  he  was  the  leader  of  "the  long 
nine."  The  service  he  rendered  Springfield  paved  the  way  for  his  removal  to  the 
new  state  capital  and  gave  him  his  start  in  the  practice  of  law. 


14  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

In  that  Legislature  were  four  men  who  became  United  States  senators.  Two 
of  the  participants  in  the  capital  fight  became  nominees  of  their  parties  for  the 
presidency,  and  one  the  nominee  of  his  party  for  the  vice-presidency.  One  of 
them  was  a  general  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  three  of  them  were  generals  in  the 
civil  war.  The  struggle  was  a  long  drawn-out  game  in  parliamentary  tactics. 
Lincoln's  quick  wit  and  physical  agility  played  the  winning  move. 

Vandalia  secured  the  first  advantage  in  the  choice  of  the  presiding  officer. 
Springfield  carried  on  a  campaign  of  education.  The  location  of  Vandalia,  on  the 
bluffs  of  the  Okaw,  is  picturesque.  The  Springfield  missionaries  insisted  that 
Vandalia  was  unhealthy  and  urged  removal  from  the  river  to  the  prairie  on  sani- 
tary grounds.  There  had  occurred  several  deaths  of  members  of  theLegislature 
while  the  capital  was  at  Vandalia.  The  Springfield  argument  attributed  the  mor- 
tality to  the  location  of  the  capital.  This  aroused  much  indignation  among  the 
Vandalians.  It  was  not  mentioned  by  later  generations  without  some  feeling. 
An  old  resident  remarking  upon  the  iniquity  of  the  charge  against  the  climate  of 
Vandalia,  said: 

"The  trouble  was  busthead  whiskey.  I've  heard  them  tell  that  at  Ebenezer 
Capp's  store,  which  was  the  general  resort  of  the  legislators  of  that  time,  a  barrel 
of  liquor  was  kept  with  the  head  knocked  out  and  a  dipper  hanging  on  a  nail  so 
that  thirsty  members  could  help  themselves.  I  have  seen  some  of  the  old  accounts 
of  Ebenezer  showing  a  bill  of  $80  for  the  entertainment  of  members  of  the  Legis- 
lature a  single  evening."  

The  session  wore  away  without  Lincoln  being  able  to  do  anything  with  the 
petition  to  create  a  new  county.  All  other  business  except  the  question  of  capital 
location  was  held  back.  Springfield  continued  working  for  votes.  On  one  pre- 
text and  another  the  settlement  was  postponed.  The  removal  sentiment  seemed 
to  be  gaining.  Vandalia  people  watched  closely  the  attendance;  the  purpose  being 
to  force  a  vote  when  Springfield  absentees  might  give  the  advantage.  One  morn- 
ing the  presiding  officer  suddenly  laid  before  the  members  the  question  of  capital 
location  for  the  next  twenty  years.  The  Vandalia  members  to  a  man  were  in  their 
seats.  Several  supporters  of  Springfield  had  gone  to  their  homes,  but  had  not  re- 
turned. A  hurried  canvass  showed  the  Springfield  members  their  side  was  in  the 
minority.  There  was  only  one  way  to  beat  Vandalia,  and  that  was  to  break  the 
quorum.  The  morning  roll  call  had  shown  barely  a  sufficient  number  to  do  busi- 
ness. The  Springfield  men  looked  toward  the  door  and  saw  what  the  plan  was. 
There  stood  the  sergeant-at-arms  with  a  force  which  made  exit  impossible. 
Clearly  the  Vandalia  people  meant  to  hold  the  minority  until  the  vote  which 
would  prevent  removal  of  the  capital  could  be  passed.  Lincoln  was  on  the  floor 
to  delay  action.  It  was  evident  that  postponement  of  the  vote  would  be  only 
temporary,  and  that  Vandalia  controlled  the  situation.  Lincoln  nodded  to  his 
friends,  turned  and  hurried  to  the  window.  A  wooden  sill  at  that  time  projected 
beyond  the  wall.  Before  his  purpose  was  understood  and  before  the  officers  of 
the  House  could  reach  him  Lincoln  stepped  out  on  the  sill,  let  himself  down 
until  he  hung  by  his  hands  and  dropped  to  the  ground.  Several  other  Springfield 
men  followed.  Those  who  remained  in  their  seats  raised  the  point  of  no  quorum. 
That  blocked  the  proceedings.  The  quorum  remained  broken  until  the  supporters 
of  Springfield  reached  the  capital.  Near  the  close  of  the  session  the  issue  was 
foiced  and  the  Legislature  voted  to  remove  the  capital  to  Springfield.  Such  is 
the  Vandalia  story  of  "How  Lincoln  broke  the  quorum."  When  one  of  the  old 
residents  tells  the  story  the  others  smile  and  say,  "Yes,  that  was  the  way  it  was." 


The  Duel  He  Didn't  Fight 

The  old  resident  of  Alton  takes  the  visitor  to  the  river  bank  in  front  of  the 
City  Hall  and,  pointing  across  the  Mississippi  to  an  island  heavily  wooded  with 
willows,  informs  him  that  there  is  the  "Lincoln-Shields  Park."  On  the  22d  of 
September,  1842,  the  stage  coaches  rattled  down  the  long  valley  through  the  bluffs 
of  Alton  and  unloaded  an  extraordinary  passenger  list  at  the  Piasa  Hotel.  The 
people  stilting  and  standing  on  the  wide  double  galleries  of  the  three-story,  hipped 
roof,  wooden  hotel,  looked  and  wondered  as  James  Shields,  the  state  auditor, 
accompanied  by  General  Whitesides  and  several  other  well-known  Springfield 
Democrats,  stepped  down  from  one  coach  and  went  into  the  hotel.  They  were 
amazed  when  another  vehicle  delivered  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  lawyer;  E.  H. 
Berryman  and  William  Butler.  About  the  same  time  Elijah  Lott  and  J.  J.  Hardin 
and  several  others,  well-known  public  men  of  Illinois,  drove  into  town.  There 
was  no  hilarity  as  these  groups  arrived  and  entered  the  hotel.  When  a  bundle  of 
the  great,  clumsy  cavalry  sabres  of  that  day  was  lifted  carefully  down  from  the 
coach  and  carried  in,  the  lookers-on  began  to  exchange  excited  comments.  All 
over  town  went  the  rumor  that  a  duel  was  coming  off.  Leaders  of  politics  in 
Alton,  Whigs  and  Democrats,  were  taken  into  confidence  by  their  respective 
friends  from  the  state  capital.  "Jim"  Shields  had  challenged  "Abe"  Lincoln  and 
they  were  going  across  the  river  to  fight  on  Missouri  soil  with  "broadswords," 
the  regulation  cavalry  sabres  of  the  United  States  Army.  Those  were  the  years 
of  "dragoons"  in  this  country. 

The  two  parties  did  not  waste  time  at  the  hotel.  It  became  evident  through 
hurried  conferences  that  friends  who  had  learned  of  the  intended  meeting  had 
followed  with  the  hope  of  preventing  it.  Hardin  and  Lott  were  two  of  the 
would-be  pacificators.  Lincoln  and  Shields,  with  their  seconds  and  surgeons,  and 
with  an  attendant  carrying  the  bundle  of  sabers,  left  the  hotel  and  walked  down 
Piasa  street  to  the  river  bank,  where  a  ferry  with  paddle  wheels  which  were  driven 
by  horses  was  tied.  But  expeditious  as  the  movement  was,  the  Altonians,  old  and 
young,  had  anticipated  it,  without  any  aid  from  the  modern  telephone.  The 
hotel  galleries  were  crowded,  the  street  was  full  of  people,  hundreds  stood  on  the 
river  bank.  There  was  difficulty  in  limiting  the  number  of  passengers  on  the 
ferry  boat.  The  town  constable  was  taken  along.  Friends  who  were  trying  to 
fix  up  the  trouble  pressed  their  way  on  board.  Some  prominent  Altonians  who 
could  not  well  be  refused  were  permitted  to  go.  One  newspaper  man  secured 
passage.  He  was  "Bill"  Souther,  afterward  better  known  to  the  history  of  Illinois 
as  William  G.  Souther. 

The  Southers  were  of  the  earliest  New  England  stock.  Their  ancestor  was 
the  first  secretary  of  the  Plymouth  colony.  They  had  moved  to  Alton  shortly 
before  this  time  and  "Bill"  Souther  was  a  printer  on  the  Alton  Telegraph  and 
Democratic  Review.  He  afterward  became  an  editor  at  Springfield.  Other  mem- 
bers of  the  Souther  family  moved  from  Alton  to  St.  Louis  and  established  one 
of  the  great  metal  industries  of  that  city.  "Bill"  Souther  saw  it  all,  but  his  paper 
printed  not  one  word  from  him.  Traditions  and  some  recollections  written  long 
afterward  have  preserved  the  facts  of  this,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  meetings 
under  the  code  on  American  soil.  Thomas  M.  Hope,  Samuel  W.  Buckmaster  and 
Dr.  English  were  of  the  Alton  men  who  joined  in  the  movement  to  avert  blood- 
shed and  to  prevent  political  scandal. 


16  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

As  soon  as  the  ferry  reached  the  island  Mr.  Lincoln  was  taken  in  one  direction 
and  Mr.  Shields  in  the  other.  They  were  given  scats  on  logs  and  left  to  them- 
selves while  seconds  and  peacemakers  discussed  the  situation.  In  a  short  time  a 
serious  defect  in  the  proceedings  on  the  part  of  Shields  came  to  light.  The 
challenge  had  been  sent  prematurely.  The  mistake  is  explained  quite  clearly  in 
the  Alton  traditions.  Lincoln  had  amused  himself  and  had  entertained  the  Whigs 
by  writing  funny  letters  to  a  Springfield  paper  about  the  Democrats,  and  signing 
his  epistles  "Aunt  Rebecca."  Mary  Todd,  who  afterwards  became  Mrs.  Lincoln, 
and  Julia  Jayne  conspired  to  add  to  the  gayety  of  the  community  by  getting  up  an 
"Aunt  Rebecca"  letter  of  their  own  composition  and  sending  it  to  the  paper  along 
with  some  verses  which  they  signed  "Cathleen."  The  letter  which  the  girls 
wrote  went  outside  of  politics  and  contained  a  burlesque  proposal  of  marriage 
to  Auditor  Shields.  Now,  the  auditor,  afterward  a  United  States  senator  from 
three  states,  and  a  brave  general  of  two  wars,  was  a  fiery  young  man.  While 
Springfield  laughed,  Shields  began  an  investigation.  He  demanded  of  the  editor 
the  real  name  of  "Aunt  Rebecca."  The  girls  became  frightened.  Bunn,  the 
banker,  went  over  to  Mr.  Lincoln's  office  and  said: 

"We've  got  into  an  awful  fix?" 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Lincoln. 

"The  girls  have  written  some  poetry  on  Shields,"  said  Bunn.  "Didn't  you 
see  it  in  the  paper?  Well,  Shields  says  he  won't  stand  it.  What  shall  we  do 
about  it?" 

"You  go  back  and  when  you  meet  Shields  tell  him  I  wrote  it,"  said  Lincoln. 

Shields  accepted  this  without  verification  and  sent  the  challenge.  The  peace- 
makers, hurrying  to  Alton,  brought  the  true  story  of  the  authorship.  The  facts 
came  out  in  the  conference  on  the  island.  Mr.  Hope  went  to  Shields  and  told 
him  he  would  bring  disgrace  on  the  Democratic  party  if  he  persisted  in  a  meeting 
under  such  circumstances.  The  seconds  began  the  interchange  of  notes.  Shields 
saw  the  error  of  proceeding  further  when  he  learned  that  Lincoln  was  not  the 
writer.  For  an  hour  or  more  the  writing  and  exchanging  of  notes  went  on.  Mean- 
time the  population  of  Alton  stood  in  a  dense  mass  on  the  river  bank  looking 
across  the  channel  and  having  a  good  view  of  all  of  the  movements.  "Bill" 
Souther,  good  reporter  that  he  was,  kept  his  eyes  on  the  principals.  He  told  that 
for  some  time  after  the  landing  Lincoln  and  Shields  sat  quietly  on  their  logs. 
Lincoln  said  nothing,  and  Souther  thought  he  looked  serious.  After  awhile 
something  happened,  and  Souther  said  that  when  he  saw  it  he  "nearly  blew  up." 
The  bundle  of  sabres  had  been  laid  down  near  the  log  where  Lincoln  was  sitting. 
Lincoln  reached  out  and  took  up  one  of  the  weapons.  He  drew  the  blade  slowly 
from  the  scabbard,  and  Souther  said  "it  looked  as  long  as  a  fence  rail."  Holding 
the  blade  by  the  back,  Lincoln  looked  closely  at  the  edge,  and  then,  after  the 
manner  of  one  who  has  been  grinding  a  scythe  or  a  corn  knife,  he  began  to  feel 
gingerly  the  edge  with  the  ball  of  his  thumb.  By  this  time  "Bill"  Souther  was 
tremendously  interested.  Holding  the  sabre  by  the  handle,  Lincoln  stood  up 
and  looked  about  him.  He  evidently  saw  what  he  was  looking  for  in  a  willow  tree 
several  feet  away.  Raising  the  mighty  weapon  with  his  long  arm,  Lincoln  reached 
and  clipped  one  of  the  topmost  twigs  of  the  willow.  When  he  had  thoroughly 
satisfied  himself  as  to  the  efficiency  of  the  broadsword  he  sat  down.  A  few 
minutes  later  the  correspondence  was  closed  on  terms  "honorable  to  both  parties." 

As  the  boat  put  back  to  Alton  the  spectators  on  the  bank  were  horrified  to  see 
lying  prone  upon  the  deck  a  figure  covered  with  blood,  while  a  well-known 
Altonian  leaned  over  the  figure  plying  a  fan  vigorously.  Not  until  the  boat  was  close 


The  Duel  He  Didn't  Fight  17 

in  shore  was  it  seen  that  the  figure  was  a  log  of  wood  and  that  the  "bloody"  cov- 
ering was  a  red  flannel  shirt.  Wentworth  dropped  the  fan,  stood  up  and  grinned. 

Lincoln  was  6  feet  and  4  inches,  with  an  arm  length  in  proportion.  Shields 
was  5  feet  and  6  inches,  chunky  and  short-limbed.  "Bill"  Souther  marveled  much 
over  the  willow  tree  exhibition,  and  wondered  how  long  Shields  could  have  stood 
up  against  such  odds. 

A  very  sober  second  thought  came  to  Alton  after  the  first  excitement  over  the 
Shields-Lincoln  duel.  Alton  had  one  of  the  best  weekly  newspapers  in  the  valley. 
The  paper  was  large.  It  contained  much  interesting  matter.  It  was  called  the 
Alton  Telegraph  and  Democratic  Review.  The  presidential  campaign  was  two 
years  in  the  future,  but  this  paper  carried  at  the  top  of  the  editorial  page  "For 
President,  Henry  Clay." 

The  paper  came  out  as  usual  on  the  24th  of  September,  two  days  after  the. 
duel.  Not  one  word  of  what  "Bill"  Souther  saw  on  the  island  was  printed.  Not  the 
slightest  reference  was  made  to  the  affair,  which  was  the  talk  of  the  town.  The 
next  issue,  on  the  1st  of  October,  contained  an  editorial  beginning  just  below  the 
announcement  for  Henry  Clay.  The  caption  of  this  leader  was  "Our  City,"  and 
then  followed  the  rest  of  the  sentence  and  the  editor's  condemnation,  in  his  sever- 
est style,  of  the  disgraceful  affair  and  his  demand  for  indictment  and  punishment. 
This  editorial  was  not  the  least  interesting  incident  of  the  duel: 

"OUR  CITY 

Was  the  theatre  of  an  unusual  scene  of  excitement  during  the  last  week,  arising 
from  the  visit  of  two  distinguished  gentlemen  of  the  City  of  Springfield,  who, 
it  was  understood,  had  come  here  with  a  view  of  crossing  the  river  to  answer  the 
'requisitions  of  the  code  of  honor'  by  brutally  attempting  to  assassinate  each 
other  in  cold  blood. 

"We  recur  to  this  matter  with  pain  and  the  deepest  regret.  Both  are,  and 
have  been  for  a  long  time,  our  personal  friends.  Both  we  have  ever  esteemed  in 
all  the  private  relations  of  life,  and  consequently  regret  that  we  consider  an  im- 
perative sense  of  duty  we  owe  to  the  public  compels  us  to  recur  to  the  disgrace- 
ful and  unfortunate  occurrence  at  all.  We,  however,  consider  that  these  gentle- 
men have  both  violated  the  laws  of  the  country  and  insist  that  neither  their 
influence,  their  respectability  nor  their  private  worth  should  save  them  from 
being  made  amenable  to  those  laws  they  have  violated.  Both  of  them  are 
lawyers;  both  have  been  legislators  of  the  State  and  aided  in  the  construction  of 
laws  for  the  protection  of  society;  both  exercised  no  small  influence  in  the  com- 
munity— all  of  which,  in  our  estimation,  aggravates,  instead  of  mitigates,  their 
offense.  Why,  therefore,  they  should  be  permitted  to  escape  punishment  while  a 
friendless,  penniless  and  obscure  person  for  a  much  less  offense,  is  hurried  to  the 
cells  of  our  County  Jail,  forced  through  a  trial  with  scarcely  the  forms  of  law,  and 
finally  immured  within  the  dreary  walls  of  a  penitentiary,  we  are  at  a  loss  to 
conjecture.  It  is  a  partial  and  disreputable  administration  of  justice  which, 
though  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  age,  we  most  solemnly  protest  against. 
Wealth,  influence  and  rank  can  trample  upon  the  laws  with  impunity,  while 
poverty,  scarcely  permitted  to  utter  a  word  in  its  defense,  is  charged  with  crime 
in  our  miscalled  temples  of  justice. 

"Among  the  catalogue  of  crimes  that  disgraces  the  land,  we  look  upon  none 
to  be  more  aggravated  and  less  excusable  than  that  of  dueling.  It  is  the  calm- 
est, most  deliberate  and  malicious  species  of  murder — a  relic  of  the  most  cruel 
barbarism  that  ever  disgraced  the  darkest  periods  of  the  world — and  one  which 


18  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

every  principle  of  religion,  virtue  and  good  order  loudly  demands  should  be  put 
a  stop  to.  This  can  be  done  only  by  a  firm  and  unwavering  enforcement  of  the 
law  in  regard  to  dueling  toward  all  those  who  so  far  forget  the  obligations  they 
are  under  to  society  and  the  laws  which  protect  them  as  to  violate  its  provisions. 
And  until  this  is  done,  until  the  civil  authorities  have  the  moral  courage  to  dis- 
charge their  duty  and  enforce  the  law  in  this  respect,  we  may  frequently  expect 
to  witness  the  same  disgraceful  scenes  that  were  acted  in  our  city  last  week. 

"Upon  a  former  occasion,  when  under  somewhat  similar  circumstances  our 
city  was  visited,  we  called  upon  the  attorney  general  to  enforce  the  law  and  bring 
the  offenders  to  justice.  Bills  of  indictment  were  preferred  against  the  guilty,  but 
there  the  matter  was  permitted  to  rest  unnoticed  and  unexamined.  The  offenders, 
in  this  instance,  as  in  the  former,  committed  the  violation  of  the  law  in  Spring- 
field, and  we  again  call  upon  Mr.  Attorney  General  Lamborn  to  exercise  a  little 
of  that  zeal  which  he  is  continually  putting  into  requisition  against  the  less 
favored  but  no  less  guilty  offenders,  and  bring  all  who  have  been  concerned  in 
the  late  attempt  at  assassination  to  justice.  Unless  he  does  it  he  will  prove  him- 
self unworthy  the  high  trust  that  has  been  reposed  in  him. 

"How  the  affair  finally  terminated,  not  having  taken  the  trouble  to  inquire, 
we  are  unable  to  say.  The  friends  of  Mr.  Shields  and  Mr.  Lincoln  claim  it  to 
have  been  settled  upon  terms  alike  honorable  to  both,  notwithstanding  the 
hundred  rumors,  many  of  which  border  upon  the  ridiculous,  that  are  in  circula- 
tion. We  are  rejoiced  that  both  were  permitted  to  return  to  the  bosom  of  their 
friends,  and  trust  that  they  will  now  consider,  if  they  did  not  do  it  before,  that 
rushing  unprepared  upon  the  untried  scenes  of  eternity  is  a  step  too  fearful  in  its 
consequencs  to  be  undertaken  without  preparation. 

"We  are  astonished  to  hear  that  large  numbers  of  our  fellow-citiens  crossed 
the  river  to  witness  a  scene  of  cold-blooded  assassination  between  two  of  their 
fellow-beings.  It  was  no  less  disgraceful  than  the  conduct  of  those  who  were  to 
have  been  the  actors  in  the  drama.  Hereafter  we  hope  the  citizens  of  Springfield 
will  select  some  other  point  to  make  public  their  intentions  of  crossing  the 
Mississippi  to  take  each  other's  life  than  Alton.  Such  visits  can  not  but  be 
attended  not  only  with  regret,  but  with  unwelcome  feelings,  and  the  fewer  we 
have  the  better. 

"We  should  have  alluded  to  this  matter  last  week  but  for  our  absence  in 
court." 

The  Alton  Telegraph  and  Democratic  Review  was  published  by  J.  A.  Bail- 
hache  &  Co.  The  editor  was  George  T.  M.  Davis,  twice  mayor  of  Alton,  who 
afterwards  was  editor  of  the  New  Era  in  St.  Louis.  Col.  Davis  served  gallantly 
in  the  Mexican  war  and  afterwards  was  prominent  in  public  life  at  Washington. 
His  grandsons  became  business  men  in  St.  Louis. 


Duff  Armstrong  and  the  "Almanac" 

At  a  political  gathering  in  the  little  county  of  Menard  a  citizen  said  to  the 
reporter: 

"Do  you  want  to  see  the  man  who  was  tried  for  murder  and  cleared  by  Abe 
Lincoln  and  an  almanac?" 

Thus  came  about  an  acquaintance  with  Duff  Armstrong.  Duff  was  a  stocky 
little  man  with  suspicious  gray  eyes,  a  bristling  reddish-brown  mustache.  He 
was  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  listening  with  a  look  of  patience  rather 
than  of  interest  to  the  orator,  when  he  was  called;  and  he  walked  away  to  a  more 
retired  spot  without  any  apparent  regret  at  leaving  the  speaking.  Upon  the  pole 
of  a  wagon  which  had  brought  a  load  of  farmers  to  hear  the  tariff  expounded, 
Duff  and  the  reporter  found  seats.  Duff  Armstrong  was  a  reticent  man,  and 
almost  under  protest  he  told  the  story  of  the  camp-meeting  row,  of  his  mother's 
appeal  to  Lincoln  to  come  and  defend  him,  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  response,  of  the  trial 
and  of  the  introduction  of  the  almanac. 

The  man  for  whose  death  Duff  Armstrong  was  tried  was  Press  Metzgar. 
A  campmeeting  ground  was  the  scene  of  the  tragedy.  Metzgar  had  a  refreshment 
stand  on  the  outskirts  of  the  camp.  There  he  sold  whiskey  as  well  as  other  things. 
Duff  Armstrong,  then  a  young  man  of  eighteen  or  twenty  years,  had  had  some- 
thing to  drink  at  the  place.  A  dispute  arose  over  his  demand  for  more.  Metzgar 
refused  to  serve  him  unless  he  paid  in  advance.  Young  Armstrong  took  this  as  a 
reflection  on  his  solvency.  A  fight  followed  as  usual  under  such  circumstances. 
Metzgar  received  wounds  from  which  he  died.  There  were  others  besides  Arm- 
strong in  the  fight  but  he  was  held  as  the  principal  responsible  for  the  killing. 
It  was  not  a  shooting  as  the  writer  of  an  historical  novel  described  it  but  the 
death  wounds  were  given  with  a  slung-shot.  Witnesses  of  the  fight  made  it 
appear  that  Armstrong  was  the  aggressor,  and  that  he  beat  Metzgar  savagely, 
being  assisted  by  a  friend.  These  witnesses  testified  that  they  saw  the  fight 
from  a  little  distance,  and  gave  a  minute  account  of  it.  They  claimed  that 
although  the  time  was  ten  o'clock  at  night  the  moon  was  shining  brightly,  and  it 
was  possible  to  see  the  combatants  almost  as  plainly  as  in  the  daytime. 

"Armstrong,"  the  reporter  asked,  "tell  about  the  killing.    Were  you  guilty?" 

Duff  looked  down  at  the  ground,  stuck  his  knife  in  the  sod  two  or  three 
times  and  said  with  emphasis: 

"No,  I  wasn't.  Press  pitched  into  me  without  any  cause.  I  had  had  a  drink 
or  two  but  I  knew  what  I  was  about.  Press  was  getting  the  best  of  me  when  I 
gave  it  to  him." 

Then  Duff  told  how  Mr.  Lincoln  was  brought  into  the  case.  His  mother 
was  known  to  the  whole  community  as  "Aunt  Hannah."  She  had  been  kind  to 
Lincoln  when  he  lived  in  the  Salem  neighborhood.  Local  sentiment  about  the 
Metzgar  affair  was  against  Duff.  The  man  who  was  indicted  as  accessory  to 
the  killing  had  been  given  eight  years  in  the  penitentiary.  In  her  distress,  Aunt 
Hannah  wrote  to  Mr.  Lincoln  who,  at  that  time,  had  been  living  in  Springfield 
a  dozen  or  more  years.  Mr.  Lincoln  wrote  back  at  once  that  he  would  defend 
Duff.  He  told  the  family  to  get  a  change  of  venue  to  Beardstown,  on  account  of 
local  prejudice.  This  was  done.  He  told  Aunt  Hannah  to  rely  upon  him.  No- 
body knew  what  the  defense  was  to  be,  Duff  said.  But  when  the  case  came  to 


20  A.  Reporter's  Lincoln 

trial,  Lincoln  was  there.  He  questioned  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  very 
closely.  There  were  two  men  who  testified  to  the  details  of  the  fight.  Mr. 
Lincoln  had  them  describe  the  positions  of  the  combatants  when  the  slung-shot 
was  used;  and  they  made  the  circumstances  look  bad  for  Duff.  Then  he  pressed 
them  to  know  how  they  could  testify  so  accurately  and  led  them  into  positive 
statements  about  the  moonlight.  They  described  the  moon  as  being  about  the 
height  of  the  sun  at  ten  in  the  morning.  Mr.  Lincoln  returned  to  this  again  and 
again,  and  asked  the  witnesses  if  they  were  sure  they  were  not  mistaken.  As 
often  as  the  question  was  put,  so  often  they  committed  themselves.  They  insisted 
the  moon  shining  down  upon  the  combatants  made  every  movement  plain  to  them. 

Then  the  almanac  was  produced.  Duff  said  that  Mr.  Lincoln  passed  it  to  the 
jurors  and  asked  them  to  see  what  kind  of  a  night  it  was  on  which  the  fight  took 
place  and  to  judge  of  the  accuracy  of  such  testimony  as  they  had  heard.  The 
almanac  was  examined.  It  showed  that  there  was  no  moonlight  such  as  the 
witnesses  had  sworn.  Mr.  Lincoln  followed  up  this  advantage  with  a  speech  in 
which  he  tore  the  testimony  to  pieces.  He  argued  the  theory  that  Armstrong 
had  been  attacked  and  that  he  had  only  exerted  himself  in  self  defense.  He 
told  the  jurors  how  he  had  held  "little  Duff"  in  his  arms  many  a  time  at  the 
Armstrong  cabin  while  Aunt  Hannah  cooked  the  meals  and  he  described  the 
character  of  the  little  chap,  as  he  had  seen  it  forming,  in  such  a  way  it  seemed 
impossible  to  imagine  him  as  making  the  assault  described  by  these  witnesses 
who  had  sworn  there  was  a  high  moon  when  there  was  not.  Duff  was  acquitted. 

"He  told  mother  that  he  wouldn't  charge  a  cent  for  defending  me,  and  he 
never  did,"  said  Armstrong,  as  the  narrative  drew  to  a  conclusion. 

"But,  Duff,  what  about  that  almanac?"  was  asked.  "Where  did  Lincoln  get 
it?  Was  it  bogus?" 

The  gray  eyes  flashed.  The  jack-knife  was  plunged  into  the  grass  roots  as 
Armstrong  blurted  out  in  an  indignant  tone: 

"It's  all  foolishness  to  talk  about  Lincoln  having  had  that  almanac  fixed  up 
for  the  trial.  He  didn't  do  anything  of  the  kind.  I  recollect  that  after  he  had 
been  asking  the  witnesses  about  the  moonlight,  he  suddenly  called  for  an  almanac. 
There  wasn't  any  in  the  courtroom  of  the  year  he  wanted.  So  he  sent  my  cousin 
Jake  out  to  find  one.  Jake  went  out,  and  after  awhile  he  came  back  with  the 
almanac.  Lincoln  turned  to  the  night  of  the  fight  at  the  camp-meeting  and  it 
showed  there  wasn't  any  moon  at  all  that  night.  Then  he  showed  it  to  the  jury.  That 
was  all  there  was  to  the  almanac  story.  The  almanac  was  all  right.  I  tell  you 
he  was  a  mighty  smart  man  and  a  good  one,  too." 

Duff  Armstrong  sold  his  trotting  horse,  joined  the  church  and  became  a 
respected  citizen  of  Menard  County.  He  was  always  ready  to  defend  Lincoln 
against  the  tradition  of  having  palmed  off  on  the  jury  a  doctored  almanac.  But 
the  tradition  lived  through  two  or  three  generations.  Uncle  Johnny  Potter  who 
was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  Armstrongs  laughed  and  shook  his  head  when  the 
reporter  asked  him  what  the  real  facts  were  about  the  almanac.  Some  Peters- 
burg people  who  were  at  the  campmeeting  insisted  that  there  was  nearly  a  full 
moon  that  night  in  spite  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  documentary  evidence.  Old  almanacs 
were  overhauled.  A  search  was  made  for  the  almanac  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  used 
in  the  courtroom,  but  it  could  not  be  found,  so  the  tradition  ran. 


Twenty  years  ago  a  wealthy  collector  of  Lincolniana  was  offered  what  was 
claimed  to  be  the  almanac  with  which  Lincoln  cleared  Duff  Armstrong.      The 


Duff  Armstrong  and  the  Almanac  21 

trial  at  Beardstown  took  place  in  1858,  a  year  and  a  half  after  the  affray.  With 
the  almanac  was  furnished  a  number  of  affidavits  of  its  genuineness  as  the  one 
used  by  Lincoln.  The  collector  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  buying  the  real  thing 
and  paid  a  good  price  for  it  but  nothing  like  the  $1,000  at  which  the  almanac  was 
valued. 

Then  J.  McCan  Davis,  a  lawyer  of  Springfield,  took  up  the  investigation  of 
the  mystery.  He  traced  the  almanac  back  through  several  successive  owners, 
who  had  bought  it  at  increasing  prices.  He  talked  with  lawyers  who  were  con- 
nected with  the  case.  He  hunted  up  the  surviving  jurors.  Mr.  Davis  said  he 
obtained  cumulative  testimony  which  entirely  satisfied  him  Mr.  Lincoln  did  not 
use  the  almanac  sold  to  the  Chicago  collector.  He  traced  this  "Lincoln  almanac" 
to  a  man  who  claimed  to  have  been  a  deputy  sheriff  at  the  time  of  the  Arm- 
strong trial.  This  man's  story  was  that  he  found  the  almanac  in  a  book  he  bought 
at  a  sale  of  the  effects  of  a  somewhat  noted  Illinoisan  named  Shaw.  A  pro- 
longed deadlock  occurred  in  the  Illinois  Legislature  over  the  senatorship  when 
John  A.  Logan  and  William  R.  Morrison  were  the  rival  candidates.  A  vacancy 
occurred  in  one  of  the  state  senatorial  districts  where  the  Democrats  had  a 
normal  majority.  By  a  shrewdly  managed  still  hunt,  which  is  a  chapter  in 
Illinois  political  history,  the  Republicans  elected  Shaw  to  the  Legislature  and 
Logan  was  chosen  senator  by  this  narrow  margin.  Shaw  died  and  when  his 
library  was  sold  this  "Lincoln  almanac"  was  discovered.  The  man  who  found 
it  claimed  that  Shaw  had  been  in  some  way  connected  with  the  Armstrong  case. 
And  thus  the  chain  was  begun.  The  collector  who  bought  the  almanac  was  a 
shrewd  business  man.  He  had  no  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  his  relic.  The 
almanac  was  of  the  issue  of  1854.  By  skillful  pen  work  the  "4"  was  changed  into 
a  "7",  making  the  almanac  appear  to  have  been  issued  in  1857,  the  year  of  the 
affray  at  the  campmeeting. 

But  Mr.  Davis  did  more  than  trace  the  almanac  to  its  source.  He  went  to 
the  best  astronomical  records  and  learned  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  no  need  to  take 
any  other  year  in  order  to  obtain  almanac  evidence  to  impeach  the  witnesses 
against  Duff  Armstrong.  The  genuine  almanac  for  1857  showed  there  was  no  full 
moon  on  the  night  of  the  affray.  There  was  a  new  moon,  Mr.  Davis  said,  about 
two  days  old.  Instead  of  being  in  the  east  where  the  sun  would  be  at  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  as  the  witnesses  testified,  it  was,  at  the  hour  of  the  fight,  almost 
setting  in  the  west. 

Brand  of  Whiskey  Grant  Drank 

A  Lincoln  story  which  will  never  die  is  the  reply  the  president  made  to  the 
criticism  of  Grant's  habits.  Lincoln  said:  "He  wished  he  knew  what  brand  of 
whiskey  Grant  drank,  in  order  that  he  might  send  some  to  the  other  generals." 
The  story  survives  and  is  oft  told,  but  the  circumstances  which  prompted  Lin- 
coln's remark  are  not  so  well  remembered.  A  St.  Louis  man  brought  that  story 
from  Washington.  He  was  Henry  T.  Blow.  His  home  was  in  Carondelet,  now 
the  southern  part  of  the  city,  but  then  a  separate  municipality.  Mr.  Blow  knew 
Gen.  Grant  when  he  was  Capt.  Grant.  The  Blows  and  Dents  were  acquainted, 
socially.  Although  a  Virginian,  Mr.  Blow  had  become  first  an  emancipationist, 
then  a  Republican  and  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war  an  ardent  Union  man.  Mr. 
Blow  was  sent  to  Venezuela  as  United  States  minister.  He  did  not  like  Caracas 
and  came  back  to  Missouri  within  the  year  to  run  for  Congress.  After  enter- 


22  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

ing  upon  this  campaign,  in  which  he  was  successful,  Mr.  Blow  visited  Washington 
and  talked  with  the  president  on  conditions  in  the  West.  The  battle  of  Pitts- 
burg  Landing,  or  Shiloh,  had  been  fought  and  almost  lost.  Three  months  before 
the  country  had  dubbed  the  victor  of  Fort  Donelson  "Unconditional  Surrender" 
Grant  and  had  made  a  hero  of  him.  Now,  with  the  disputed  responsibility  for 
the  Pittsburg  Landing  surprise,  there  arose  a  mighty  clamor  on  the  part  of  cer- 
tain newspapers  and  politiciansf»,that  Grant  be  superseded.  Mr.  Blow  talked  freely 
with  the  president.  He  told  him  what  he  had  known  of  Grant  before  the  war 
and  mentioned  the  fear  entertained  by  some  persons  that  Grant  drank  too  much 
to  be  intrusted  with  high  command.  Mr.  Blow  was  a  smooth  spoken  man,  with 
sharp  black  eyes,  quick  to  appreciate  humor.  He  had  been  a  very  successful 
business  man  for  years  before  he  became  interested  in  politics.  He  was  rather 
below  the  average  height.  President  Lincoln  listened  thoughtfully  until  Mr. 
Blow  had  expressed  himself,  and  then  asked  with  apparent  seriousness  what 
brand  of  whiskey  Grant  drank.  Explaining  why  he  sought  the  information,  he 
used  the  language  about  sending  some  to  the  other  generals,  which  has  become 
historic.  Mr.  Blow  lost  no  time  in  starting  the  story  on  its  rounds.  The 
criticism  of  Grant's  habits  seemed  to  lose  its  force  rapidly,  as  the  story  was 
spread. 


Captain  Henry  King's  Experience 

Who  wrote  Lincoln's  speeches?  That  was  a  topic  of  discussion  in  the  days 
before  the  country  had  come  to  know  the  man.  Frederick  W.  Lehmann  of 
St.  Louis  said: 

"Captain  Henry  King,  for  many  years  the  well-known  editor  of  the  Globe- 
Democrat,  a  master  in  the  use  of  language,  had  an  experience  which  is  enlighten- 
ing. As  a  young  newspaper  man  he  had  been  assigned  to  report  a  speech  of 
Mr.  Lincoln.  He  had  been  greatly  impressed  with  it,  with  its  sentiment  and 
expression.  He  made  his  report  of  it  in  the  best  style  that  he  could  command, 
using  the  words  that  he  thought  Mr.  Lincoln  ought  to  have  used.  He  submitted 
the  report  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  very  proud  of  his  accomplishment.  Mr.  Lincoln  looked 
over  it  carefully  and  said,  'Young  man,  you  made  a  most  excellent  report  of  this 
but  I  think  you  did  not  quite  get  my  language  here  and  there.'  And  he  went 
through  with  it,  changing  back  the  words  to  the  simple  Saxon  that  he  had 
himself  used  so  well.  Captain  King  said  he  was  unable  to  recognize  what  he 
had  written. 

"There  were  men  older  than  Captain  King  who  tried  to  edit  what  Mr. 
Lincoln  said,"  continued  Mr.  Lehmann,  "Seward  looked  over  the  manuscript  of 
the  inaugural  address,  criticised  it  with  some  severity,  and  actually  insisted  on 
striking  out  the  last  clause  as  too  sentimental  for  such  an  occasion.  Mr.  Lin- 
coln always  had  faith  in  himself,  where  principle  or  sentiment  was  involved, 
and  that  clause  often  attributed  to  Mr.  Seward,  but  which  he  did  not  write,  but 
considered  inappropriate  remained,  in  which  Mr.  Lincoln  made  this  appeal  to  his 
southern  friends,  'We  are  friends,  we  are  not  enemies.  We  must  not  be  enemies. 
Though  passion  may  have  strained,  it  must  not  break  the  bonds  of  our  affection. 
The  mystic  chords  of  memory  stretching  from  every  patriotic  grave  and  battle- 
field to  every  loving  heart  and  hearthstone  throughout  this  broad  land,  will  yet 
swell  the  music  of  the  Union  when  touched,  as  they  surely  will  be,  by  the  better 
angels  of  our  nature.' " 


The  "New  Party"  of  the  Fifties 

Ira  Haworth  was  one  of  the  young  men  Lincoln  selected  to  help  him  start 
the  Republican  party.  The  Haworths  were  pioneers  in  Illinois.  One  of  them 
founded  the  City  of  Danville.  Another  member  of  the  family  started  George- 
town. Ira  Haworth  grew  up  in  Vermilion  County,  where  as  a  boy  he  came  to 
know  and  reverence  Lincoln. 

The  Haworths  were  Quakers.  When  past  eighty  Ira  Haworth  had  the  placid 
look  which  made  him  the  youngest-appearing  octogenarian  in  Kansas.  The  Lin- 
coins  back  several  generations  were  Quakers.  Between  Abraham  Lincoln  and  Ira 
Haworth's  father  in  the  forties  there  was  correspondence  on  the  iniquity  of  slavery. 

"I  first  met  Mr.  Lincoln  at  the  boarding  house  of  old  Mrs.  Carruthers  in 
Danville,  where  he  was  stopping  while  attending  court,"  Mr.  Haworth  said.  "Mr. 
Lincoln  didn't  show  at  first  all  that  was  in  him.  He  grew  on  you  as  you  came  to 
know  him  well.  He  was  very  tall,  6  feet  and  4  inches  in  his  bare  feet.  While  he 
looked  spare,  he  was  muscular.  He  weighed  180  pounds.  His  hair  was  very 
dark  brown  and  of  coarse  growth.  His  eyes  were  hazel,  tending  to  a  grayish  hue 
in  color,  deep  set,  with  a  serious  expression,  which  changed  quickly  to  a  twinkle 
at  the  prospective  introduction  of  a  joke  or  a  story.  Lincoln's  nose  was  of  more 
than  medium  size  and  of  the  Roman  type.  The  mouth  was  large  and  lips  firm,  of 
medium  thickness.  The  features  were  rather  large  to  attract  admiration.  Lin- 
coln's demeanor  was  that  of  extreme  simplicity,  with  deliberate  movements,  and 
a  mixture  of  cordiality  and  dignity." 


Mr.  Baworth  said  that  Lincoln  had  no  desire  to  go  back  to  Congress  after  the 
term  to  which  he  was  elected  in  1846  by  the  Whigs;  that  he  found  the  surround- 
ings in  Washington  uncongenial.  He  believed  from  his  association  with  Lincoln 
that  the  latter  began  early  the  consideration  of  plans  for  the  formation  of  the 
Republican  party. 

"The  campaign  of  1848  was  closely  contested,"  Mr.  Haworth  said,  as  he  de- 
scribed this  evolution  of  a  new  party  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  thoughts.  "Lincoln  took 
an  active  part  that  year,  presenting  the  issues  that  were  agitating  the  public 
mind.  He  achieved  reputation  not  only  in  Illinois,  but  in  neighboring  States, 
through  that  campaign.  The  result  of  the  campaign  was  the  election  of  the 
Whig  ticket,  but  within  four  years  the  Whig  party  had  gone  to  pieces.  Lincoln 
wrote  to  me  to  call  a  caucus  in  my  county  to  consider  the  advisability  of  forming 
a  new  party.  I  sent  out  a  call  and  six  of  us  met  to  talk  over  the  proposition.  We 
organized,  elected  officers,  talked  over  the  plan  and  adjourned  with  the  under- 
standing we  would  get  a  larger  attendance  for  the  next  meeting.  The  work  of 
starting  the  new  party  was  arduous.  The  anti-slavery  party  discouraged  the 
movement  by  urging  those  who  were  then  without  a  party  to  join  their  ranks. 
The  old  Democratic  party  was  in  possession  of  the  government,  so  well  fortified 
that  the  leaders  were  defiant  and  uncompromising  toward  the  slavery  agitators. 
Those  Wigs  who  were  originally  in  favor  of  slavery  extension  joined  the  Demo- 
cratic oligarchy,  which  received  them  joyfully." 

Mr.  Haworth  described  graphically  the  slow,  discouraging  progress  made  in 
the  first  few  months  with  the  organization  of  the  Republican  party  in  Illinois. 
Lincoln,  as  Mr.  Haworth  recalled  those  earliest  efforts,  was  the  head  of  the  move- 
ment. To  increase  the  interest  the  few  original  Republicans  in  each  locality 


24  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

invited  ladies  to  their  meetings  and  endeavored  to  interest  them.  This  was  a 
decided  novelty  in  politics.  Lincoln  carried  on  correspondence  with  his  young 
acquaintances  in  the  various  counties,  and  pressed  the  organization  by  counties 
preparatory  to  a  convention  to  form  the  state  organization.  Haworth  was  so 
active  that  he  was  afterwards  given  the  title  of  "father  of  the  Republican  party" 
in  his  part  of  the  state. 


The  biographers  of  Lincoln  say  that  he  gave  little  attention  to  politics  in  the 
early  fifties.  They  seem  to  have  derived  this  impression  from  the  contemporaries 
of  Lincoln  who  were  themselves  prominent  in  politics  of  those  years.  But  Lin- 
coln, by  the  testimony  of  Haworth  and  others,  who  were  young  and  scarcely 
known  outside  of  their  school  districts  in  1852-55,  was  very  busy  in  politics.  He 
was  creating  the  Republican  party  of  Illinois  even  before  the  name  had  been 
chosen.  He  was  writing  letters  to  young  men  who  had  just  reached  their  majori- 
ties, or  were  about  coming  of  age.  He  was  going  out  from  Springfield  to  little 
gatherings  at  schoolhouses  and  country  stores,  talking  about  the  new  party  and 
outlining  what  principles  it  should  build  upon.  He  was  scribbling  tentative  plat- 
forms. The  old  Whig  leaders  at  the  state  capital  and  at  the  county  seats  were 
wondering  what  was  going  to  happen,  and  waiting  for  some  kind  of  a  revelation 
of  public  drift.  Lincoln,  paying  little  heed  to  the  leaders,  was  making  sentiment 
with  the  people,  organizing  from  the  neighborhood  and  the  school  district  up- 
ward. He  was  constructing  the  Republican  party  of  Illinois.  The  man  who  was 
so  handy  with  the  manual  tools  that  he  could  turn  out  cabinet  work  was  putting 
together  mentally  the  framework  of  a  political  organization,  which,  at  the  end 
of  the  decade,  was  to  sweep  the  country.  And  he  was  doing  it  so  quietly  and  with 
so  little  surface  indication  that  the  politicians  did  not  appreciate  what  was  going 
on;  they  thought  "Abe  Lincoln"  had  gone  out  of  politics  and  was  giving  his  whole 
attention  to  law  business.  They  never  did  realize,  as  did  Haworth  and  the  other 
young  unknowns  to  whom  Lincoln  had  given  the  commissions  of  local  arganizers, 
the  constructive  work  done  by  him  long  before  the  Bloomington  convention  was 
called  to  form  the  state  organization.  Two  new  ideas  Lincoln  developed  in  this 
political  creation.  He  converted  and  encouraged  young  men  new  in  politics.  His 
suggestion  brought  into  the  little  meetings  and  gave  prominence  to  women.  The 
great  moral  issue  appealed  strongly  to  the  feminine  sympathy.  Women  turned 
out  in  numbers  to  these  school  district  meetings  of  the  new  party.  They  entered 
upon  the  new  party  movement  with  enthusiasm.  They  had  become  a  great 
political  force  in  Illinois  when  the  campaign  of  1860  opened.  They  rode  in  the 
processions.  They  sang,  they  laughed  and  they  cried  for  "Old  Abe."  And  their 
interest  dated  back  to  those  neighborhood  gatherings  which  Lincoln  had  pro- 
moted in  the  counties  of  Central  Illinois  when  the  politicians  thought  he  was  giv- 
ing all  of  his  time  and  thought  to  the  practice  of  the  law.  Thus  Abraham  Lincoln 
and  the  people  created  the  Republican  party  in  Illinois.  The  political  leaders 
came  in  when  the  ground  swell  rifted  them,  and  many  of  them  never  did  quite 
realize  how  it  all  came  about. 


In  the  vault  of  one  of  the  Kansas  City,  Kan.,  banks  were  long  preserved  as 
articles  of  great  value  a  cane  and  a  gavel,  made  of  black  walnut,  handsomely  turned 
by  the  lathe  and  adorned  with  metal  bands.  The  cane  was  inscribed  across  the 
top,  "Ira  Haworth,"  and  around  the  head,  "Abraham  Lincoln,"  with  the  word, 
"presented." 


The  "New  Party"  of  the  Fifties  25 

"When  Lincoln's  nomination  was  announced  to  the  convention  at  Chicago," 
said  Mr.  Haworth,  who  was  one  of  the  Illinois  delegates,  "two  stalwart  ushers 
entered  the  door  of  the  wigwam  bearing  on  their  shoulders  a  unique  design.  They 
carried  two  walnut  fence  rails,  decorated  with  the  national  colors.  Supported  by 
the  rails  was  an  immense  shield,  and  on  the  shield  was  a  large  picture  of  Lincoln. 
As  the  men  slowly  made  their  way  up  the  densely  packed  aisle,  with  excitement 
already  high,  the  audience  went  wild.  Hats  were  thrown  in  the  air;  handker- 
chiefs were  waved  vigorously.  The  shouts  made  a  deafening  roar.  The  people 
arose  to  their  feet  and  cheered  the  progress  of  the  rails  and  the  picture  through 
the  wigwam  until  the  design  was  placed  upon  the  platform. 

"The  rails  used  on  that  occasion,"  said  Mr.  Haworth,  "were  made  by  Mr. 
Lincoln  in  what  was  then  Sangamon  County,  when  he  was  20  or  21  years  old. 
They  had  been  in  use  twenty  years  on  the  farm  of  John  Hanks,  who  was  Lincoln's 
uncle,  until  they  were  transported  to  Chicago,  to  be  used  if  Lincoln  was  nom- 
inated. While  John  Hanks  produced  the  rails  and  testified  to  their  genuineness, 
the  idea  of  using  them  in  connection  with  the  nomination  was  not  his.  Richard  J. 
Oglesby  and  Richard  Yates  orignated  the  plan." 

Mr.  Lincoln,  Mr.  Haworth  thought,  had  no  part  in  the  rail  incident.  He  was 
in  the  Republican  movement  because  of  the  principles  it  represented.  But  Lin- 
coln was  too  good  a  politician  to  discourage  the  use  of  the  rails  when  he  saw  how 
his  rail-splitting  record  appealed  to  the  every-day  human  interest. 

"Mr.  Lincoln,"  said  Mr.  Haworth,  "obtained  one  of  these  rails  of  his  own 
splitting  and  had  made  for  me  the  cane  and  gavel  which  you  see.  The  two  were 
sent  to  me  at  Danville  by  express.  The  next  time  I  met  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  thanked 
him  for  the  remembrance.  He  said  he  had  sent  me  the  cane  thinking  I  would 
have  use  for  it  when  I  became  old.  'You  know,1  he  added,  'the  wicked  generally 
do  live  to  become  old.'  Referring  to  the  gavel  Mr.  Lincoln  said  to  me:  'I  want 
you  to  arrange  to  go  into  the  campaign  for  me.'  I  said:  'Mr.  Lincoln,  I  always 
thought  you  a  man  of  judgment.'  He  replied:  'Take  these  relics  and  go  before 
the  people  explaining  how  you  got  them.'  Well,  the  result  was  I  arranged  matters 
so  as  to  leave  the  farm  and  went  through  the  counties  in  my  part  of  the  State 
holding  meetings  at  the  schoolhouses.  A  man  went  ahead  of  me  making  appoint- 
ments, I  drove  from  schoolhouse  to  schoolhouse,  holding  three  or  four  meetings 
a  day,  showing  the  gavel  and  the  cane  and  telling  the  story  about  them.  In  thirty 
days,  by  the  account  I  kept,  I  attended  over  100  of  these  meetings.  In  the  same 
time,  according  to  a  record  made,  there  were  at  these  meetings  over  1000  changes 
of  Democrats  to  become  Republicans.  That  was  the  way  we  swept  Illinois  for 
Lincoln." 

After  that  campaign  his  neighbors  in  Vermilion  called  Mr.  Haworth  "the 
father  of  the  Republican  party."  When  he  moved  away  in  1870  to  settle  in  Kansas, 
a  farewell  meeting  was  held  and  Mr.  Haworth  was  given  the  title  of  "the  grand- 
father of  the  Republican  party"  of  Vermilion. 

"I  suppose  that  now  I  am  entitled  to  be  called  one  of  the  great-grandfathers 
of  the  Republican  party,"  said  Mr.  Haworth,  with  a  twinkle  of  the  eyes. 


"I  never  saw  Mr.  Lincoln  drink  liquor,"  said  Mr.  Haworth.  "In  1847  he 
made  an  address  in  which  he  declared  his  fidelity  to  the  cause  of  temperance. 
He  then  pledged  his  assistance  to  its  advancement  in  all  future  time.  His  asser- 
tions attracted  me  and  made  a  profound  impression  on  me,  for  I  had  been  a  total 
abstainer.  Having  found  a  public  man  thinking  as  I  did  about  temperance,  for 


26  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

that  was  unusual  in  those  days,  I  became  attached  to  him  in  no  ordinary  degree. 
The  two  great  subjects  of  slavery  and  temperance  led  to  an  acquaintance  with 
Mr.  Lincoln  by  which  I  gained  much  as  a  young  man.  Lincoln  was  at  heart  a 
Christian.  'Whatever  appears  to  be  God's  will,  I  will  do  it,'  he  said  to  a  deputa- 
tion representing  different  religious  denominations  which  called  upon  him  at  the 
White  House  in  September,  1862.  That  was  his  guiding  principle  all  of  the  time 
I  knew  him.  His  influence  over  younger  men  who  made  his  acquaintance  was 
very  strong  and  for  much  good.  I  have  always  felt  that  I  was  more  indebted  to 
him  for  my  course  in  life  than  to  any  other  person.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  wonderful 
self  command.  He  told  me  on  one  occasion  that  he  had  never  in  his  life  been 
really  angry.  His  motives  in  the  work  he  did  to  create  the  Republican  party  in 
Illinois  were  of  the  highest  character.  Previous  to  the  meeting  of  the  convention 
in  Chicago,  which  nominated  him  in  1860,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  approached  by  persons 
who  wished  to  be  empowered  to  promise  certain  things  in  return  for  support. 
Mr.  Lincoln  replied,  'No,  gentlemen.  I  have  not  sought  the  nomination.  Neither 
will  I  attempt  to  buy  it  with  pledges.  If  I  shall  receive  the  nomination  and  be 
elected,  I  shall  not  go  into  office  as  the  tool  of  this  or  that  man,  or  the  property 
of  any  faction  or  clique.  The  people's  choice  will  be  my  choice.  I  desire  that  the 
result  shall  be  to  keep  the  jewel  of  liberty  in  freedom's  family.' " 


A  Drink  and  a  Sunrise 


In  1859  B.  F.  Smith  was  a  young  brakeman  on  the  Illinois  Central  railroad. 
Afterward  he  became  one  of  the  pioneers  in  the  development  of  berry  culture  in 
Southern  Illinois.  He  made  Centralia  famous  and  was  known  far  and  wide  as 
"Strawberry"  Smith.  Still  later  he  moved  to  Kansas,  helped  to  bring  Lawrence 
into  high  repute  as  a  fruit  center,  and  published  for  many  years  a  horticultural 
journal.  Mr.  Smith  had  these  personal  experiences  with  the  two  most  talked 
of  men  in  Illinois. 

"Senator  Douglas  rode  with  me  in  the  brakeman's  seat  from  Odin  to 
Champaign  one  trip  in  1859.  He  offered  me  a  cigar,  which  I  refused,  saying 
that  I  had  never  learned  to  smoke.  At  Champaign  he  took  a  seat  in  the  second- 
class  car,  next  to  the  baggage  car.  Here  he  emptied  a  small  bottle  of  liquor  into 
his  stomach,  or  nearly  all  of  it.  When  I  went  through  the  car  at  Chicago,  he 
roused  up  before  his  friends  came  to  meet  him  and  offered  me  a  drink  from 
his  bottle,  which  I  refused.  It  seemed  strange  to  him  for  a  railway  brakeman 
to  refuse  to  smoke  or  drink  with  him. 

"The  other  distinguished  man  who  rode  with  me  about  that  time  was 
Abraham  Lincoln.  He  sat  in  my  seat  on  the  run  from  Champaign  to  Tolono. 
It  was  about  sunrise.  There  was  only  one  farm  then  between  those  two  stations, 
in  1859,  all  green  prairie.  A  beautiful  sun  rising  attracted  Mr.  Lincoln.  He  called 
my  attention  to  it, — the  sun  just  rising  over  those  beautiful,  undulating  hills.  He 
wanted  me  to  share  with  him  his  admiration  of  the  scene.  I  admitted  that  it  was 
lovely.  I  had  been  seeing  the  sun  rise  every  morning  between  those  two  stations, 
as  we  left  Chicago  at  9  p.  m.,  and  hadn't  thought  much  about  the  beauty  of  it. 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  asleep  until  we  reached  Champaign.  Well  the  moral  of  this 
is  in  the  contrast  of  the  two  great  men.  One  of  them  tempted  me  by  offering  a 
cigar  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey  and  at  the  end  of  it  desired  me  to  help  him 
empty  a  bottle  of  whiskey.  The  other  called  my  attention  to  that  beautiful  sun- 
rise over  the  virgin  prairies  of  Illinois  and  invited  me  to  share  with  him  the 
impression  of  it." 


The  Eighth  Circuit 


"The  eighth  circuit"  and  Mr.  Lincoln's  relation  to  it  perhaps  have  had  no 
counterpart  in  the  history  of  the  American  bar.  When  this  circuit  was  organized 
in  1847  it  had  fourteen  counties,  occupying  the  central  part  of  Illinois,  around 
Bloomington.  As  immigration  from  the  North  and  South  flowed  in,  the  circuit 
was  gradually  reduced  in  area.  But  even  after  his  own  County  of  Sangamon  was 
taken  out  Lincoln  continued  to  practice  and  to  be  a  strong  personality  in  the 
eighth  circuit.  In  each  county  of  the  circuit  two  terms  of  court  were  held 
yearly.  Mr.  Lincoln  spent  about  half  of  the  year  attending  these  terms  of  court 
away  from  his  home.  He  continued  to  attend  the  eighth  circuit  terms  after 
other  lawyers  had  ceased  to  "ride  the  circuit."  He  was  present  at  the  spring  terms 
of  the  circuit  in  1860,  a  few  weeks  before  his  nomination  to  be  president.  And 
after  his  election  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  visit  Bloomington  to  make  disposi- 
tion of  the  cases  in  which  he  was  retained.  This  peculiarly  close  relationship 
of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  the  eighth  circuit  bore  upon  his  political  as  well  as  upon  his 
legal  career.  In  the  eighth  circuit  he  won  the  reputation  of  being  the  best  jury 
lawyer  of  Illinois.  In  the  eighth  circuit  he  organized  the  movement  which  led  to 
the  Republican  party  of  Illinois.  In  the  eighth  circuit  he  won  the  influential  and 
steadfast  political  friends  who  brought  about  his  nomination  for  the  presidency. 

To  Bloomington  for  the  terms  of  court  in  the  early  days  of  the  eighth  circuit 
came  with  Lincoln  Edwin  D.  Baker,  afterward  a  United  States  senator  from 
Oregon;  James  A.  McDougal,  afterward  United  States  senator  from  California; 
Stephen  A.  Douglas,  United  States  senator  from  Illinois;  Judge  Stephen  T. 
Logan  of  Springfield;  Daniel  W.  Voorhees,  afterward  a  United  States  senator 
from  Indiana;  Judge  Usher,  afterward  secretary  of  the  interior;  Norman  H. 
Purple  of  Peoria,  and  T.  Lyle  Dickey  of  Ottawa,  both  of  them  afterward  judges 
of  the  Supreme  Court.  David  Davis  was  ten  years  judge  of  this  circuit. 


The  late  Ezra  M.  Prince  of  Bloomington,  secretary  of  the  local  Historical 
Society,  in  a  paper  written  some  time  before  his  death,  described  the  customs 
and  conditions  which  prevailed. 

"The  relations  between  the  court,  lawyers,  jurors,  of  the  eighth  circuit  was 
peculiar,  one  that  has  long  since  passed  away,"  Mr.  Prince  said:  "The  court  was 
rather  a  big  family  consultation,  presided  over  by  the  judge,  than  a  modern  court. 
Judge  Davis  personally  knew  a  large  portion  of  the  people  in  the  circuit.  The 
jurors  were  then  selected  by  the  sheriff.  In  McLean,  and  probably  in  the  other 
counties,  substantially  the  same  jurors  appeared  from  term  to  term,  personal 
friends  of  Judge  Davis,  men  of  intelligence,  sound  judgment  and  integrity,  whose 
verdicts  rarely  had  to  be  set  aside.  Court  week  was  a  holiday  for  the  people  of 
the  county.  Political  years  there  was  always  speaking  at  the  courthouse,  the 
parties  using  it  on  alternate  nights.  The  people  attended  court  to  get  the  news, 
hear  the  speeches,  listen  to  the  exciting  trials  and  to  do  their  trading.  The 
lawyers  and  many  of  the  jurors,  witnesses  and  suitors  stopped  at  the  same  tavern. 

"There  was  a  singular  comradeship  of  these  attendants  upon  the  court.  With- 
out the  court  at  all  losing  its  dignity,  there  was  a  freedom  and  familiarity  as  of 
old  friends  and  acquaintances  meeting  upon  a  public  occasion,  rather  than  the 


28  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

formality  and  dignity  associated  with  the  idea  of  a  modern  court.  Often  the 
judge's  room,  which  sometimes  was  the  only  decent  one  in  the  tavern,  was  used 
evenings  by  the  lawyers  in  their  consultations,  without  regard  to  the  presence 
of  the  judge. 

"In  several,  perhaps  all,  of  these  counties,  young  lawyers  who  desired  to 
avail  themselves  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  popularity  and  who,  perhaps,  distrusted  their 
own  ability  to  prepare  and  try  cases  in  the  circuit  court,  arranged  with  Mr.  Lin- 
coln to  allow  them  to  advertise  him  as  their  partner.  So  there  was  Lincoln  & 
Jones  in  this  county  and  Lincoln  &  Smith  in  that;  but  the  partnership  was  limited 
simply  to  Lincoln  trying  Smith's  and  Jones'  cases,  if  they  had  any,  and  dividing 
fees  with  them.  The  only  law  partners,  in  the  proper  acceptance  of  the  term,  Mr. 
Lincoln  ever  had  were  his  Springfield  partners,  Col.  John  T.  Stuart  early  in  his 
legal  career,  and  later  William  H.  Herndon.  Mr.  Herndon  never  traveled  the 
circuit.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  always  a  great  favorite  with  the  court,  lawyers  and  all 
attendants  upon  the  court.  The  young  and  inexperienced  received  from  him  wise 
and  timely  advice  and  aid  in  their  cases.  The  trial  of  cases  was  conducted  almost 
entirely  by  these  leaders  of  the  circuit.  Mr.  Lincoln  being  on  one  side  or  the 
other  of  nearly  every  case  tried.  A  crowd  always  gathered  around  him,  whether 
in  court  or  elsewhere,  expecting  the  never-failing  'story.'  The  evenings  were  a 
contest  of  wits,  for  the  pioneer  lawyer  always  had  a  good  story  ready.  These 
customs  of  the  circuit  made  its  leaders  warm  friends." 


After  most  of  the  other  lawyers  had  given  up  the  practice  of  riding  the 
circuit  Leonard  Swett  continued  it  with  Mr.  Lincoln.  There  developed  between 
Mr.  Lincoln  and  Mr.  Swett  a  very  close  personal  relationship.  Mr.  Swett,  some 
time  before  his  death,  speaking  of  this  friendship,  said:  "It  seems  to  me  I  have 
tried  a  thousand  lawsuits  with  or  against  Lincoln  and  I  have  known  him  as 
intimately  as  I  have  known  any  man  in  my  life." 

Letters  of  Lincoln  to  Swett  are  in  the  possession  of  Bloomington  friends. 
Some  of  them  indicate  the  confidential  character  of  the  relations  between  the  two, 
especially  during  the  presidential  campaign  of  1860. 

With  Mr.  Lincoln's  practice  in  the  eighth  circuit  developed  the  acquaintance 
and  grew  the  leadership  which  made  him  the  master  spirit  in  the  formation  of  the 
new  political  party.  No  other  location  than  Bloomington  for  the  anti-Nebraska 
convention,  not  even  Springfield,  would  have  made  easier  Mr.  Lincoln's  guiding 
influence.  From  Bloomington,  among  the  men  who  had  known  him  most  inti- 
mately in  the  years  of  the  eighth  circuit  practice,  started  the  movement  to  make 
Mr.  Lincoln  the  nominee  of  the  Republicans  in  1860. 

Jesse  W.  Fell  of  Bloomington  began  the  detail  work  of  organizing  Illinois 
for  Lincoln  immediately  after  the  defeat  for  the  United  States  Senate  in  1858. 
He  had  been  secretary  of  the  Republican  committee  during  that  1858  campaign. 
The  first  serious,  active  movement  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  candidacy  was  this  effort  of 
Mr.  Fell.  A  better  man  for  the  undertaking  there  was  not  in  Illinois.  Mr.  Fell 
had  come  to  Bloomington  in  1832  from  his  Quaker  home  in  Pennsylvania.  Giving 
up  the  law  and  going  into  development  business,  he  had  founded  the  first  news- 
paper of  Bloomington,  had  been  instrumental  in  the  establishment  of  the  first 
library.  He  had  planted  13,000  trees  in  the  suburb  of  Normal  before  there  was 
a  house  built.  He  had  secured  the  Normal  University.  He  was  the  pioneer 
horticulturist  and  arboriculturist  of  Illinois.  He  gave  the  names  of  trees  to 
twenty  streets.  Consistently  refusing  office  for  himself,  Mr.  Fell  became  the 


The  Eighth  Circuit  29 

devoted  admirer  and  friend  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  There  was  no  limit  to  Mr.  Fell's 
industry  when  he  set  about  the  accomplishment  of  a  purpose.  In  his  avowed 
intention  to  make  Mr.  Lincoln  the  nominee  for  president  he  had  the  constant 
advice  and  aid  of  two  other  residents  of  Bloomington,  both  lawyers,  who  became 
of  national  prominence.  One  of  them  was  Leonard  Swett,  a  tall,  dark,  hand- 
some man  from  Maine,  whose  magnetic  presence  and  melodious  eloquence  had 
won  for  him  the  title  of  "the  advocate  of  the  West."  The  third  member  of  this 
Bloomington  triumvirate,  determined  to  secure  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
was  the  heavy  weight,  the  man  of  great  mental  strength  whose  sagacity  the  whole 
state  of  Illinois  respected,'  David  Davis.  No  man  in  politics  ever  had  more  loyal, 
more  intelligent  attention  to  his  interests  than  these  three  Bloomington  men  gave 
to  the  candidacy  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  Their  attachment  to  him  was  something 
phenomenal  in  politics.  With  his  newspaper  instincts  and  his  inclination  to  pro- 
motion methods,  Mr.  Fell  put  in  early  operation  at  Bloomington  a  press  bureau. 
At  the  instance  of  Mr.  Fell,  and  as  the  result  of  not  a  little  persuasion,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln sat  down  to  a  table  in  the  courtroom  at  Bloomington  and  wrote  the 
autobiography  of  himself  which  is  historic.  He  did  this  in  1859.  The  first  use 
Mr.  Fell  made  of  the  sketch  was  to  send  a  copy  of  it  to  a  paper  in  Pennsylvania, 
his  early  home,  with  the  information  that  this  was  the  man  whose  joint  debates 
with  Douglas  had  aroused  the  whole  country,  and  the  man  whose  name  Illinois 
would,  in  all  probability,  present  to  the  Republican  Convention  of  1860. 


"Strikingly  characteristic  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  the  closing  sentence  of  that 
autobiography,"  the  former  vice-president,  Adlai  E.  Stevenson,  said.  When  Mr. 
Lincoln  had  completed  the  story  of  his  life,  he  wrote,  "No  other  marks  or  brands 
recollected."  This  was  the  usual  form  in  which  legal  notices  of  animals  "strayed 
or  stolen"  concluded  in  the  northern  states,  while  it  was  not  infrequently 
employed  in  the  South,  especially  Kentucky,  for  a  notice  of  a  "runaway  slave." 
This  sentence  was  the  touch  of  humor  which  Mr.  Lincoln  added  to  an  account  of 
his  life,  straightforward,  definite  and  concise.  Mr.  Lincoln,  his  Bloomington 
friends  said,  neither  made  capital  of  his  self-made  qualities,  nor  did  he  conceal  the 
hardships  of  his  early  life.  He  drew  often  on  his  experiences  with  his  wonderful 
memory  to  illustrate  some  point  or  thought  he  wished  to  convey.  He  did  not  talk 
of  himself  for  his  sake  any  more  than  he  told  stories  because  they  were  good 
stories.  If  Mr.  Fell  hadn't  been  the  extraordinarily  persevering  man  that  he 
was,  it  is  probable  the  story  of  Lincoln  by  Lincoln,  would  never  have  been 
written.  To  show  what  kind  of  a  man  Jesse  W.  Fell  was,  it  is  said  of  him  in 
Bloomington  that  when  he  went  into  the  office  of  Judge  Davis  one  day,  that 
sturdy  "prairie  farmer"  called  out  loud  enough  for  all  in  the  room  to  hear:  "Oh, 
here's  Fell  again.  No,  I  can't  do  it.  But  it's  no  use  to  talk;  you'll  have  me  before 
you  go  away."  Mr.  Fell  pressed  Mr.  Lincoln  for  this  account  of  himself  until  he 
got  him  seated  at  a  desk  in  the  courthouse  and  saw  the  story  put  on  paper.  Mr. 
Lincoln  wrote  this,  as  he  did  his  letters  and  his  law  papers,  with  very  few  changes 
and  with  seldom  a  pause  to  think.  He  wasted  no  words. 


"I  was  born  February  12,  1809,  in  Hardin  County,  Ky.  My  parents  were  both 
born  in  Virginia,  of  undistinguished  families — second  families,  perhaps  I  should 
say.  My  mother,  who  died  in  my  10th  year,  was  of  a  family  of  the  name  of 
Hanks,  some  of  whom  now  reside  in  Adams  and  others  in  Macon  County,  111. 


30  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

My  paternal  grandfather,  Abraham  Lincoln,  emigrated  from  Rockingham  County, 
Va.,  to  Kentucky  about  1781  or  1782,  where  a  year  or  two  later  he  was  killed  by 
the  Indians,  not  in  battle,  but  by  stealth,  when  he  was  laboring  to  open  a  farm 
in  the  forest.  His  ancestors,  who  were  Quakers,  went  to  Virginia  from  Berks 
County,  Pa.  An  effort  to  identify  them  with  the  New  England  family  of  the 
same  name  ended  in  nothing  more  definite  than  a  similarity  of  Christian  names 
in  both  families,  such  as  Enoch,  Levi,  Mordecai,  Solomon,  Abraham,  and  the  like. 

"My  father,  at  the  death  of  his  father,  was  but  6  years  of  age,  and  he  grew  up 
literally  without  education.  He  removed  from  Kentucky  to  what  is  now  Spencer 
County,  Ind.,  in  my  8th  year.  We  reached  our  new  home  about  the  time  the  state 
came  into  the  Union.  It  was  a  wild  region,  with  many  bears  and  other  wild 
animals  still  in  the  woods.  There  I  grew  up.  There  were  some  schools,  so-called, 
but  no  qualification  was  ever  required  of  a  teacher  beyond  'readin',  writin'  and 
cipherin' '  to  the  rule  of  three.  If  a  straggler  supposed  to  understand  Latin 
happened  to  sojourn  in  the  neighborhood  he  was  looked  upon  as  a  wizard.  There 
was  absolutely  nothing  to  incite  ambition  for  education.  Of  course,  when  I  came 
of  age  I  did  not  know  much.  Still,  somehow,  I  could  read,  write  and  cipher  to 
the  rule  of  three,  but  that  was  all.  I  have  not  been  to  school  since.  The  little 
advance  I  now  have  upon  this  store  of  education  I  have  picked  up  from  time  to 
time  under  the  pressure  of  necessity. 

"I  was  raised  to  farm  work,  which  I  continued  till  I  was  22.  At  21  I  came  to 
Illinois,  Macon  County.  Then  I  got  to  New  Salem,  at  that  time  in  Sangamon, 
now  in  Menard  County,  where  I  remained  a  year  as  a  sort  of  clerk  in  a  store. 

"Then  came  the  Blackhawk  war;  and  I  was  elected  a  captain  of  volunteers,  a 
success  which  gave  me  more  pleasure  than  any  I  have  had  since.  I  went  the 
campaign,  was  elated,  ran  for  the  Legislature  the  same  year  (1832),  and  was 
beaten — the  only  time  I  ever  have  been  beaten  by  the  people.  The  next  and  three 
succeeding  biennial  elections  I  was  elected  to  the  Legislature.  I  was  not  a  candi- 
date afterward.  During  this  legislative  period  I  had  studied  law,  and  removed  to 
Springfield  to  practice  it.  In  1846  I  was  once  elected  to  the  lower  house  of 
Congress.  Was  not  a  candidate  for  re-election.  From  1849  to  1854,  both  inclusive, 
practiced  law  more  assiduously  than  ever  before.  Always  a  Whig  in  politics,  and 
generally  on  the  Whig  electoral  tickets,  making  active  canvasses.  I  was  losing 
interest  in  politics  when  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  compromise  aroused  me  again. 
What  I  have  done  since  then  is  pretty  well  known. 

"If  any  personal  description  of  me  is  thought  desirable  it  may  be  said  I  am, 
in  height,  6  feet  4  inches,  nearly;  lean  in  flesh,  weighing  on  an  average  180  pounds; 
dark  complexion,  with  coarse  black  hair  and  gray  eyes.  No  other  marks  or  brands 
recollected." 


This,  the  only  story  of  his  life  Lincoln  wrote,  he  dated  "Springfield,  December 
20,  1859,"  although  the  late  Lawrence  Weldon,  Jesse  W.  Fell  and  the  other  Bloom- 
ington  friends  of  Mr.  Lincoln  said  it  was  written  in  the  courthouse  under  the 
circumstances  already  given.  Mr.  Lincoln  signed  the  story,  just  as  he  always  did 
his  name,  "A.  Lincoln."  Mr.  Fell,  with  the  wisdom  of  a  newspaper  man,  preserved 
and  published  the  story  exactly  as  Mr.  Lincoln  wrote  it. 


The  Bloomington  Convention 

The  cradle  of  the  Republican  party  of  Illinois  was  Major's  Hall,  in  Blooming- 
ton.  It  rocked  May  29,  1856.  The  hand  that  rocked  the  cradle  was  Abraham 
Lincoln's. 

The  third  story,  which  was  the  hall,  was  removed.  There  was  apprehension 
about  the  strength  of  the  walls  after  the  place  had  served  as  the  principal 
auditorium  for  two  generations  of  Bloomingtonians.  Major's  Hall  became 
Bloomington's  historic  landmark.  The  convention  which  created  the  Republican 
party  of  Illinois  is  Bloomington's  political  glory. 

Painstakingly  and  intelligently  Bloomington  assembled,  through  an  historical 
society  of  more  than  ordinary  virility,  the  record  and  the  recollections  of  that 
convention.  More  than  the  surface  proceedings — more  than  the  public  events 
— have  been  sought.  The  hitherto  unwritten  history  has  been  secured.  And  thus 
has  come  to  be  known  the  part  that  Abraham  Lincoln  performed  in  the  planning 
for  the  convention,  in  the  framing  of  the  platform,  in  the  selection  of  the  candi- 
dates. Before  they  passed  away  the  men  who  participated  in  the  Bloomington 
convention  and  in  the  conferences  and  consultations  preceding  it  gave  to  the 
Bloomington  Historical  Society  their  recollections.  The  results  are  revelations 
of  Lincoln's  active  agency  in  the  shaping  of  the  Republican  party  movement  in 
Illinois  that  add  much  to  hitherto  printed  history. 


The  Bloomington  convention  grew  directly  out  of  a  conference  of  fifteen 
editors  and  Abraham  Lincoln  at  Decatur  on  Washington's  birthday.  Those  who 
attended  the  conference  called  it  the  "Free  State  Editorial  Convention."  The 
call  for  the  conference  read: 

"All  editors  in  Illinois  opposed  to  the  Nebraska  bill  are  requested  to  meet  in 
convention  at  Decatur  on  the  22d  of  February  next,  for  the  purpose  of  making 
arrangements  for  the  organization  of  the  anti-Nebraska  forces  in  this  state  for 
the  coming  contest." 

The  number  of  papers  in  Illinois  which  editorially  indorsed  the  movement 
was  twenty-five.  The  editors  of  this  number  of  papers  signed  the  call  for  the 
meeting.  A  heavy  snowfall  the  night  before  cut  down  the  attendance  to  fifteen. 
Mr.  Lincoln  arrived  from  Springfield.  Paul  Selby  of  the  Morgan  Journal,  who 
presided,  was  authority  for  this  statement: 

"The  most  important  work  of  the  convention  was  transacted  through  the 
medium  of  the  committee  on  resolutions.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  in  conference  with 
the  committee  during  the  day,  and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  platform 
reported  through  Dr.  Charles  H.  Ray  of  the  Chicago  Tribune,  the  chairman,  and 
adopted  by  the  convention,  bears  the  stamp  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  peculiar  intellect." 

The  editors  recommended  that  a  delegate  convention  be  held  at  Bloomington 
on  Thursday,  the  29th  day  of  May.  They  appointed  a  state  central  committee  to 
make  arrangements  for  the  convention.  Most  of  those  named  as  the  committee 
accepted  the  appointment.  The  committee  met  and  issued  the  call,  which 
announced: 

"A  state  convention  of  the  anti-Nebraska  party  in  Illinois  will  be  held  in  the 
City  of  Bloomington,  on  Thursday,  the  29th  day  of  May,  1856,  for  the  purpose  of 


32  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

choosing  candidates  for  state  officers,  appointing  delegates  to  the  national  con- 
vention, and  transacting  such  other  business  as  may  properly  come  before  the 
body." 

Ten  members  of  the  committee  which  the  fifteen  editors  had  selected,  signed 
this  call.  One  of  them  was  Mr.  Lincoln's  law  partner.  Another  was  Richard  J. 
Oglesby,  the  young  lawyer,  who  had  presided  at  the  banquet  given  to  the  editors 
at  Decatur.  Purposely  the  editors  did  not  give  a  name  to  the  new  party.  On 
the  day  that  this  conference  was  in  progress  at  Decatur  there  was  in  session  at 
Pittsburg  a  gathering  of  men  from  several  states  assembled  "for  the  purpose  of 
perfecting  the  national  organization,  and  providing  for  a  national  delegate  con- 
vention of  the  Republican  party  to  nominate  candidates  for  the  presidency  and 
vice-presidency."  Not  only  did  Illinois  editors  refrain  from  calling  their  move- 
ment "Republican,"  but  the  committee  they  appointed  to  bring  into  existence 
the  Bloomington  convention,  did  not  make  use  of  the  word  "Republican." 
Abraham  Lincoln  was  a  wise  politician.  The  time  had  not  come  to  name  the 
child. 


Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  participate  openly  in  the  proceedings  of  the  editorial 
convention,  but  he  was  near  at  hand  for  consultation.  In  the  evening  a  local 
committee  of  Decatur  citizens — Isaac  C.  Pugh,  who  was  afterwards  colonel  of 
the  Forty-first  Illinois;  Dr.  H.  C.  Johns,  who  died  about  fifteen  years  ago,  and 
Maj.  E.  O.  Smith — provided  a  banquet  to  the  editors  and  several  invited  guests 
at  the  Cassell  House.  Mr.  Lincoln  attended  the  banquet  and  made  the  principal 
address.  One  of  the  editors,  who  preceded  Mr.  Lincoln  on  the  list  of  speakers, 
suggested  him  as  the  most  available  man  to  be  nominated  for  governor  and  to  head 
the  new  party  in  Illinois.  Mr.  Lincoln,  replying  to  the  reference  to  himself, 
argued  that  it  would  be  much  better  to  nominate  an  anti-Nebraska  Democrat 
for  governor  rather  than  an  old-line  Whig  like  himself,  pointing  out  that  it 
would  be  necessary  for  the  new  movement  to  draw  from  the  Democrats  and  to 
widen  the  breach  between  the  Douglas  following  and  the  Democrats  who  were 
opposed  to  Douglas  in  his  Kansas-Nebraska  policy.  He  concluded  this  argument 
with  the  opinion  that  William  H.  Bissell  was  the  most  available  man  for  the 
nomination.  This  advice  the  convention  at  Bloomington  carried  out,  the  success- 
ful result  being  just  as  Mr.  Lincoln  predicted  to  the  editors  at  Decatur. 

When  Mr.  Lincoln  was  presented  by  the  toastmaster  at  the  editors'  banquet 
he  began  with  an  apology  for  his  presence  at  a  meeting  of  editors,  speaking  of 
himself  as  an  interloper,  and  then  he  said  he  was  reminded  of  an  incident.  He 
did  not  say  that  he  was  giving  a  personal  experience  of  his  own,  but  the  editors 
surmised  as  much  and  were  greatly  amused.  Mr.  Lincoln  said  the  man  of  whom 
he  was  speaking  possessed  features  the  ladies  could  not  call  handsome.  This  man, 
while  riding  through  the  woods,  met  a  lady  on  horseback.  He  turned  out  of  the 
path  and  waited  for  the  lady  to  pass.  The  lady  stopped  and  looked  at  the  man 
a  few  moments  and  said: 

"Well,  for  land  sake,  you  are  the  homeliest  man  I  ever  saw." 
"Yes,  madam,"  the  man  replied;  "but  I  can't  help  it." 
"No,  I  suppose  not,"  the  lady  said;  "but  you  might  stay  at  home." 
Mr.  Lincoln,  when  the  editors  stopped  laughing,  said  that  he  felt  on  this 
occasion — a  banquet  to  editors — with  propriety  he  might  have  stayed  at  home. 


The  Bloomington  Convention  33 

The  banquet  address  of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  the  editors  at  Decatur  was  not  the 
most  important  act  of  his  in  connection  with  the  gathering.  His  influence  and  his 
suggestion  carried  the  conference  past  a  crisis  of  farreaching  consequence.  In 
the  conclusions  at  Decatur  none  contributed  more  to  the  success  of  the  new  party 
movement  than  the  declaration  against  Knownothingism.  The  German  immigra- 
tion into  Illinois  had  been  large.  A  conspicuous  figure  in  the  Decatur  conference 
was  George  Schneider,  editor  of  the  Illinois  Staats-Zeitung.  He  was  put  upon 
the  committee  on  resolutions.  Mr.  Schneider  considered  it  vital  to  have  embodied 
in  the  resolutions  a  condemnation  of  the  native  American  spirit.  What  occurred 
is  given  in  his  own  words: 

"The  revolution  of  1848  and  1849  in  Germany  sent  thousands  of  the  best  men 
of  Germany — men  of  culture  and  strong  will  power — to  this  country,  who  were 
placed  at  the  heads  of  many  of  the  best  newspapers  printed  in  the  German 
language.  All  of  these  papers  opposed  the  extension  of  slavery  in  the  new 
territories.  Illinois  was  in  advance  of  all  of  them,  and  nearly  every  paper 
published  in  the  German  language  in  the  state  opposed  the  Nebraska  bill.  But 
here  appeared  most  suddenly  a  black  cloud  on  the  political  horizon  which  seemed 
to  assume  such  proportions  and  threatening  form  as  to  not  only  dampen  the  fire 
of  the  new  movement  against  slavery,  but  to  drive  the  Germans  from  the  ranks 
of  the  party  to  be  formed.  I  entered  the  Decatur  conference  with  a  resolution 
in  opposition  to  this  movement,  and  I  had  resolved  to  fight  with  all  my  might 
and  win  or  go  down,  and  with  me,  perhaps,  the  new  party.  My  friend,  Paul 
Selby,  placed  me  on  the  committee  on  resolutions,  and  I  helped  to  form  a  plat- 
form containing  a  paragraph  against  the  prescriptive  doctrine  of  the  so-called 
American  party.  This  portion  of  the  platform  raised  a  storm  of  opposition,  and, 
in  utter  despair,  I  proposed  submitting  it  to  Mr.  Lincoln  and  to  abide  by  his 
decision.  Mr.  Lincoln,  after  carefully  reading  the  paragraph,  made  the  following 
comment: 

"  'Gentlemen,  the  resolution  introduced  by  Mr.  Schneider  is  nothing  new.  It 
is  already  contained  in  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  you  can  not  form  a 
new  party  on  prescriptive  principles.' 

"This  declaration  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  saved  the  resolution,  and,  in  fact,  helped 
to  establish  the  new  party  on  the  most  liberal  democratic  basis.  It  was  adopted 
at  the  Bloomington  convention  and  next  at  the  great,  and  the  first,  national 
Republican  convention  at  Philadelphia  on  the  18th  of  June,  1856." 

According  to  Mr.  Schneider,  the  Illinois  delegation  performed  an  important 
part  at  Philadelphia  in  securing  the  proper  committee  on  resolutions,  and  in 
obtaining  the  declaration  which  Mr.  Lincoln  saved  at  the  Decatur  conference. 

"The  great  majority  of  the  Germans  in  all  the  states  of  the  North,  and  even  in 
some  portions  of  the  South,  entered  the  new  party.  The  new  light  which  appeared 
at  Decatur  and  Bloomington  spread  its  rays  over  the  whole  of  the  United  States, 
and  so  the  regeneration  of  the  Union  and  the  downfall  of  slavery  dated  from 
Bloomington." 

Mr.  Schneider,  from  his  personal  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  just  given, 
and  from  his  observation  as  a  newspaper  editor,  always  held  that  Lincoln  had 
more  to  do  with  the  creation  and  establishment  of  the  Republican  party  on  lines 
which  insured  its  success  than  historians  have  credited  to  him. 

Of  Lincoln's  activity  in  the  organization  of  the  new  party  movement  before 
the  convention  of  1856  at  Bloomington,  J.  O.  Cunningham  of  Urbana  was  a 
witness.  Mr.  Cunningham  accompanied  Mr.  Lincoln  to  Bloomington.  Mr.  Lin- 


.    34  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

coin  had  been  engaged  at  the  courts  in  Vermilion  and  Champaign  counties  before 
the  convention.  The  way  to  reach  Bloomington  in  those  days  was  to  take  what 
is  now  the  Wabash  to  Decatur  and  thence  go  by  way  of  the  Illinois  Central  to 
Bloomington.  This  was  Mr.  Cunningham's  recollection  of  the  journey: 

"A  number  of  delegates  and  others  from  the  eastern  counties,  mostly  young 
men,  happened  on  the  train  with  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  arrived  at  Decatur  about  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon.  No  train  going  to  Bloomington  until  the  next  morning 
made  it  necessary  that  we  spend  the  afternoon  and  night  at  Decatur.  The  after- 
noon was  spent  by  Mr.  Lincoln  in  sauntering  about  the  town  and  talking  of  his 
early  experiences  there  twenty-five  years  before.  After  awhile  he  proposed  going 
to  the  woods,  then  a  little  way  south  or  southwest  of  the  village,  in  the  Sangamon 
bottoms.  His  proposition  was  assented  to,  and  all  went  to  the  timber.  A  con- 
venient log  by  the  side  of  the  road,  in  a  patch  of  brush,  afforded  seats  for  the 
company,  where  the  time  was  spent  listening  to  the  playful  and  familiar  talks 
of  Mr.  Lincoln.  We  spent  the  night  at  the  Cassell  House,  and  early  the  next 
day  a  train  took  us  to  Bloomington.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  very  solicitous  to  meet 
some  of  his  old  Whig  friends  from  Southern  Illinois,  whom  he  hoped  to  enlist 
in  the  new  political  movement,  and  searched  the  train  to  find  such.  He  was 
gratified  in  finding  some  one  from  the  south,  and  it  is  believed  that  Jesse  K. 
Dubois,  afterward  nominated  at  Bloomington  as  auditor  of  public  accounts,  was 
the  man." 

Mr.  Cunningham  described  the  conditions  in  Bloomington  when  Mr.  Lincoln 
and  the  delegates  from  the  eastern  counties  arrived  there  in  the  morning: 

"Many  were  awaiting  the  opening  of  the  convention,  largely  from  the 
northern  counties.  There  existed  a  most  intense  feeling  upon  the  situation  in 
Kansas.  Lawrence  had  been  sacked  but  recently  by  the  ruffianly  pro-slavery  men, 
and  the  greatest  outrages  perpetrated  upon  free-state  settlers.  The  evening  pre- 
vious to  the  convention  Gov.  Reeder  arrived  in  town,  having  been  driven  a 
fugitive  from  the  territory  he  had  been  commissioned  to  govern,  and  spoke  to 
a  large  crowd  of  listeners  in  the  street  from  an  upper  piazza.  He  was  moderate 
and  not  denunciatory  in  his  address,  only  delineating  the  violence  he  had 
witnessed  and  suffered.  Dispatches  were  received  and  often  publicly  read  to  the 
crowd  at  the  hotels  and  on  the  streets,  and  excitement  over  the  situation  was 
intense.  No  convention  in  Illinois  ever  assembled  under  circumstances  of  greater 
excitement."  

The  success  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  policy  in  the  planning  of  the  new  party  move- 
ment was  seen  when  the  convention  assembled  at  Bloomington  and  it  developed 
that  the  majority  of  the  delegates  present  had  voted  four  years  previously  for 
the  Democratic  nominee  for  president,  Franklin  Pierce.  When  the  state  ticket, 
which  the  convention  nominated  with  a  rush,  was  analyzed,  it  was  found  that 
the  majority  of  the  nominees  had  voted  with  the  Democratic  party  four  years 
previously.  One  of  the  nominees  on  the  electoral  ticket  put  forth  at  Bloomington, 
Mr.  Ferry,  had  been  on  the  Democratic  electoral  ticket  in  1852.  Mr.  Lincoln 
steadfastly  refused  to  permit  his  name  to  be  used  for  the  head  of  the  state  ticket. 
When  his  nomination  was  suggested  he  met  it  with  this  opinion:  "I  wish  to  say 
why  I  should  not  be  a  candidate.  If  I  should  be  chosen  the  Democrats  would 
say,  'It  was  nothing  more  than  an  attempt  to  resurrect  the  dead  body  of  the  old 
Whig  party.'  I  would  secure  the  vote  of  that  party  and  no  more,  and  our  defeat 
would  follow  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  I  can  suggest  a  name  that  will  secure 
not  only  the  old  Whig  vote,  but  enough  anti-Nebraska  Democrats  to  give  us  the 


The  Bloomington  Convention  35 

victory.  That  name  is  Col.  William  H.  Bissell."  This  suggestion  was  made  to 
the  editors  at  Decatur  on  the  22d  of  February.  The  editors  went  home  and 
advocated  the  nomination  of  Bissell  with  such  force  that  when  the  Bloomington 
convention  met  no  other  name  was  considered,  and  Bissell  was  nominated  with  a 
great  demonstration.  In  fact,  one  enthusiastic  delegate  shouted  that  Bissell  had 
already  been  nominated  by  the  people  of  Illinois  and  the  convention  should  only 
reaffirm. 

The  declaration  which  Mr.  Lincoln's  advice  secured  at  Decatur,  which  was 
adopted  at  Bloomington  and  also  in  the  Philadelphia  convention  with  s-uch 
tremendous  influence  upon  the  Germans  was  this: 

"That  the  spirit  of  our  institution,  as  well  as  the  constitution  of  our  country, 
guarantees  the  liberty  of  conscience  as  well  as  political  freedom  and  that  we  will 
proscribe  no  one,  by  legislation  or  otherwise,  on  account  of  religious  opinions, 
or  in  consequence  of  place  of  birth." 


The  call  for  the  anti-Nebraska  convention  at  Bloomington  provided  for  226 
delegates.  Some  counties  sent  more  than  their  apportionment,  owing  to  the  inter- 
est the  people  felt  in  the  new  party  movement.  Thirty  counties,  mostly  in 
"Egypt,"  were  wholly  unrepresented.  The  roll  call  contained  270  names.  Bloom- 
ington was  filled  with  excited  people.  The  proceedings  were  regular,  but  there 
were  no  contests  and  no  ballots.  The  business  was  transacted  as  rapidly  as  a 
mass  meeting  of  one  mind  might  have  disposed  of  it.  The  programme  had  been 
arranged,  and  the  master  spirit  in  the  arrangement  was  Abraham  Lincoln.  But 
Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  make  himself  conspicuous.  He  was  on  the  committee  which 
selected  the  ticket.  He  had  already  fixed  the  platform,  practically,  at  a  small 
conference  held  in  Springfield  between  the  Decatur  editorial  conference  and  the 
Bloomington  convention.  He  followed  the  other  speakers  in  a  statement  of  the 
opportunity  and  of  the  demand  for  this  new  party  movement.  That  statement  or 
address  was  the  keynote  of  the  Republican  campaign  in  Illinois  that  year.  It 
was  the  historic  "Lost  Speech" — lost  because  no  report  was  made  of  it.  Two 
short  sessions  in  one  day  comprised  the  whole  of  the  convention  of  a  party 
which  was  not  at  the  time  formally  named.  Yet  that  party  in  November  following 
had  grown  to  such  proportions  that  it  elected  its  entire  state  ticket  with  pluralities 
of  from  3000  to  20,000.  It  polled  96,000  votes  for  the  presidential  electors,  within 
9000  of  a  plurality.  Since  that  election  in  1856  Illinois  has  had  but  two  governors 
who  were  not  Republicans.  Before  that  election  Illinois  had  been  in  the  hands 
of  the  Democrats  thirty  years.  Abraham  Lincoln  builded  the  new  party  well. 
In  the  Bloomington  convention  were  Democrats,  Whigs  and  Abolitionists.  The 
idea  which  Mr.  Lincoln  had  made  dominant  in  the  editors'  platform  at  Decatur 
was  opposition  to  extension  of  slavery  into  the  new  territories.  Upon  that  plat- 
form all  of  these  elements  could  and  did  stand.  A  lifelong  Democrat,  John  M. 
Palmer,  was  elected  president  of  the  convention.  A  Democrat  and  a  hero  of  the 
Mexican  war,  Col.  Bissell,  was  put  at  the  head  of  the  state  ticket.  Mr.  Lincoln 
planned  and  perfected  this  union  of  widely  diverse  elements  as  no  other  man  could 
have  done.  His  "Lost  Speech"  welded  together  these  elements. 


The  speaker  who  preceded  Mr.  Lincoln  was  John  S.  Emory,  the  Kansas 
editor.  He  was  from  Lawrence,  the  scene  of  the  latest  troubles.  Years  after- 
wards he  wrote  a  graphic  narrative  of  what  he  saw  and  heard  in  Bloomington 
that  day.  This  account  is  preserved  in  the  papers  of  the  Historical  Society  of 
Bloomington.  It  reads: 


36  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

"I  got  off  the  cars  May  28  at  Bloomington.  I  learned  that  the  Missouri  river 
was  shut  up  to  free-state  men  and  that  there  was  to  be  next  day  a  big  gathering 
of  the  friends  of  freedom  from  all  parts  of  Illinois.  I  here  met  Gov.  Reeder,  who 
had  got  out  of  the  territory  in  the  disguise  of  an  Irish  hodcarrier.  My  own 
home  city  had  been  sacked  and  our  newspaper  office  demolished,  and  the  types 
and  printing  presses  thrown  into  the  raging  Kaw.  The  morrow  came  in  that 
Illinois  town,  May  29,  1856.  It  was  full  of  excited  men.  The  very  air  was  sur- 
charged with  disturbing  forces;  men  of  all  parties  met  face  to  face  on  the  streets, 
in  the  overflowing  hotels  and  about  the  depot  platforms  of  the  incoming  trains. 
Anti-Nebraska  Democrats,  Free  Soil  Whigs  and  Abolitionists  were  all  there. 
The  large  hall — Major's — was  crowded  almost  to  suffocation  as  I  took  my  seat 
on  one  of  the  rear  benches.  Browning  was  called  for,  and  he  enjoined  upon  us 
to  'ever  remember  that  slavery  itself  was  one  of  the  compromises  of  the  constitu- 
tion and  was  sacredly  protected  by  the  supreme  law.'  After  this — rather  a  cold 
dose  to  be  administered  just  at  that  time — Owen  Lovejoy  appeared  and  carried 
the  convention  by  a  storm  of  eloquent,  invective  and  terrific  oratory.  The  com- 
mittee on  resolutions  was  named.  While  this  was  being  done  I  felt  a  touch  on 
my  shoulder,  when  a  young  man  said  he  was  going  to  call  me  out  to  talk  while 
the  committee  was  out,  adding  that  I  must  stop  when  I  saw  the  committee  come 
in,  as  it  had  been  arranged  to  have  'a  fellow  up  here  from  Springfield,  Abe  Lin- 
coln, make  a  speech.  He  is  the  best  stump  speaker  in  Sangamon  County.'  This 
young  man  was  Joseph  Medill,  a  reporter  for  the  Chicago  Tribune,  as  I  after- 
wards learned. 

"I  had  no  thought  of  anything  of  this  kind,  but  of  course  I  was  prepared  to 
tell  the  story  of  bleeding  Kansas  there  in  the  house  of  her  friends.  But  two 
things  bothered  me  all  of  the  time  I  was  speaking.  One  was,  I  was  trying  to 
pick  out  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  was  to  follow  me,  for  he  was  'the  best  stump  speaker 
in  Sangamon  County,'  as  I  had  been  told,  and  I  had  never  heard  his  name  before. 
Added  to  this  was  the  watching  I  kept  up  at  the  hall  door  of  the  committee  room 
to  be  sure  to  have  a  fitting  end  to  my  rather  discursive  talk  on  that  now  notable 
occasion,  when  the  party  standing  for  free  Kansas  was  born  in  Illinois  and  when 
a  great  man  appeared  as  the  champion  of  the  Kansas  cause.  As  I  stepped  aside 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  called  for  from  all  sides.  I  then  for  the  first  time,  and  the  last, 
fixed  my  eyes  on  the  great  president.  I  thought  he  was  not  dressed  very  neatly 
and  that  his  gait  in  walking  up  to  the  platform  was  sort  of  swinging.  His  hair 
was  rather  rough  and  the  stoop  of  his  shoulders  was  noticeable.  But  what  took 
me  most  was  his  intense  serious  look.  He  at  once  held  his  big  audience  and 
handled  it  like  the  master  he  was  before  the  people,  pleading  in  a  great  and  just 
cause.  To-day  that  'Lost  Speech'  looks  quite  conservative.  His  chief  contention 
all  through  it  was  that  Kansas  must  come  in  free,  not  slave.  He  said  he  did  not 
want  to  meddle  with  slavery  where  it  existed  and  that  he  was  in  favor  of  a 
reasonable  fugitive  slave  law.  I  do  not  now  recall  how  long  he  spoke.  None  of 
us  did,  I  judge.  He  was  at  his  best,  and  the  mad  insolence  of  the  slave  power  as 
at  that  time  exhibited  before  the  country  furnished  plenty  of  material  for  his 
unsparing  logic  to  effectually  deal  with  before  a  popular  audience.  Men  that  day 
were  hardly  able  to  take  the  true  gauge  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  He  had  not  yet  been 
recognized  as  a  great  man,  and  so  we  were  not  a  little  puzzled  to  know  where 
his  power  came  from.  He  was  not  eloquent  like  Phillips,  nor  could  he  electrify 
an  audience  like  Lovejoy,  but  he  could  beat  them  both  in  the  deep  and  lasting 
convictions  he  left  on  the  minds  of  all  who  chanced,  as  I  did,  to  listen  to  him 
in  those  dark  days."  


The  Bloomington  Convention  37 

The  impression  the  "Lost  Speech"  made  upon  J.  O.  Cunningham,  who  had 
accompanied  Mr.  Lincoln  to  Bloomington  from  Urbana,  was  expressed  by  him 
in  these  words: 

"During  the  absence  of  the  committees  many  speeches  were  made.  Lovejoy 
(and,  by  the  way,  Lovejoy  was  the  greatest  stump  speaker  I  ever  listened  to), 
Browning,  Cook,  Williams,  Arnold  and  among  them  one  Emory,  a  free  state 
refugee  from  Kansas,  all  made  speeches.  Owing  to  the  inflamed  condition  of 
public  sentiment,  the  audience  had  become  much  wrought  up  in  feeling  when  it 
came  the  turn  of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  make  his  speech,  the  so-called  'Lost  Speech.'  I 
thought  it  then  a  great  speech,  and  I  now  think  it  a  great  speech,  one  of  the 
greatest  and  certainly  one  of  the  wisest  ever  delivered  by  him.  Instead  of  adding, 
as  he  might  have  done,  and  as  most  speakers  would  have  done,  to  the  bitterness 
and  exasperation  his  audience  felt,  as  a  manner  of  gaining  control  of  the  audience, 
he  mildly  and  kindly  reproved  the  appeal  to  warlike  measure  invoked  by  some 
who  had  spoken  before  him,  and  before  entering  upon  the  delivery  of  his  great 
arraignment  of  the  slavery  question  and  of  the  opposing  party,  he  said:  Til  tell 
you  what  we  will  do;  we'll  wait  until  November,  and  then  shoot  paper  ballots 
at  them.'  This  expression,  with  his  conciliatory  and  wise  declarations,  greatly 
quieted  the  convention  and  prepared  the  members  for  the  well-considered  plat- 
form which  was  afterward  presented  and  adopted." 


Gen.  Thomas  J.  Henderson,  close  friend  of  Owen  Lovejoy,  long  a  member 
of  Congress  from  Lovejoy's  district,  said  of  the  culminating  scene  of  the 
convention: 

"The  great  speech  of  the  convention  was  the  speech  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 
His  speech  was  of  such  wonderful  eloquence  and  power  that  it  fairly  electrified 
the  members  of  the  convention  and  everybody  who  heard  itj  It  was  a  great 
speech  in  what  he  said,  in  the  burning  eloquence  of  his  words  and  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  delivered  it.  If  ever  a  speech  was  inspired  in  this  world,  it  has  always 
seemed  to  me  that  that  speech  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  was.  It  aroused  the  convention 
and  all  who  heard  it  and  sympathized  with  the  speaker  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
enthusiasm.  I  have  never  heard  any  other  speech  that  had  such  great  power 
and  influence  over  those  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  I  have  always  believed  it 
to  have  been  the  greatest  speech  Mr.  Lincoln  ever  made  and  the  greatest  speech 
to  which  I  ever  listened.  I  can  never  forget  that  speech,  and  especially  that 
part  of  it  where,  after  repelling  with  great  power  and  earnestness  the  charge  of 
disunion  made  against  the  anti-Nebraska  party,  he  stood  as  if  on  tiptoe,  his  tall 
form  erect,  his  long  arms  extended,  his  face  fairly  radiant  with  the  flush  of 
excitement,  and,  as  if  addressing  those  preferring  the  charge  of  disunionism,  he 
slowly,  but  earnestly  and  impressively,  said: 

"  'We  do  not  intend  to  dissolve  the  Union,  nor  do  we  intend  to  let  you 
dissolve  it.' 

"  As  he  uttered  these  memorable  and,  I  may  say,  prophetic  words,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  convention  and  everybody  present  rose  as  one  man  to  their  feet  and 
there  was  a  universal  burst  of  applause,  repeated  over  and  over  again,  so  that 
it  was  some  moments  before  Mr.  Lincoln  could  proceed  with  his  speech." 


While  the  Bloomington  convention  refrained  from  the  use  of  the  name  of  the 
Republican  party,  it  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  purposes  of  the  party  organization 


38  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

then  formed.  It  did  more  than  select  a  full  delegation  to  the  National  Repub- 
lican Convention,  which  was  to  meet  in  Philadelphia  the  following  month.  The 
Ohio  Republican  Convention  was  in  session  that  29th  day  of  May,  at  Columbus. 
Judge  Owen  T.  Reeves,  a  resident  of  Bloomington,  was  then  a  young  lawyer 
recently  from  Ohio.  With  Jesse  W.  Fell,  Mr.  Lincoln's  zealous  friend  in  Bloom- 
ington, Mr.  Reeves  prepared  a  telegram  of  greeting  from  the  Bloomington  con- 
vention to  the  Ohio  Republican  Convention,  and  John  M.  Palmer,  the  president 
of  the  Bloomington  convention,  signed  it.  This  greeting  breathed  the  spirit  of 
Lincoln  to  combine  all  of  the  elements  opposed  to  extension  of  slavery  in  the  new 
party.  It  read: 

"The  delegates  of  the  free  men  of  Illinois  in  convention  assembled  send 
greetings  to  the  free  men  of  Ohio.  William  H.  Bissell  is  nominated  for  governor 
with  the  enthusiastic  acclaim  of  the  most  enthusiastic  delegate  convention  ever 
assembled  in  Illinois.  Gov.  Reeder  and  Mrs.  Robinson  are  here.  They  have 
appeared  before  the  public  and  have  been  greeted  by  the  wildest  applause.  The 
excitement  consequent  upon  the  latest  outrages  at  Lawrence,  Kan.,  is  sweeping 
like  wildfire  over  the  land." 

The  Ohio  convention  responded,  addressing  the  telegram  to  "the  Republican 
Convention  of  Illinois,"  and  the  telegram  was  read  to  the  convention  in  Major's 
Hall,  "amid  great  applause."  Mrs.  Robinson  was  the  wife  of  the  first  governor, 
by  election,  of  Kansas,  "a  most  beautiful  and  interesting  lady."  She  came  to 
Bloomington  on  the  train  with  the  delegation  from  Springfield,  having  fled  from 
Kansas  to  Illinois  for  protection.  Her  husband  had  been  elected  under  the  Free 
Soil  constitution.  He  had  been  indicted  on  a  charge  of  treason  and  had  been 
imprisoned.  Andrew  W.  Reeder  was  the  first  territorial  governor.  He  had  been 
elected  to  Congress  by  the  Free  Soil  party,  had  been  indicted  with  Gov.  Robin- 
son, but  had  escaped  in  disguise. 


A  committee  of  the  Historical  Society  of  Bloomington,  headed  by  George 
Perrin  Davis,  son  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  long-time  intimate  friend  Judge  David  Davis, 
made  every  effort  that  could  be  suggested  to  find  the  "Lost  Speech."  John  G. 
Nicolay,  who  was  Lincoln's  secretary  and  who,  in  collaboration  with  John  Hay, 
wrote  and  compiled  the  standard  history  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  was  a  delegate  to 
the  Bloomington  convention.  At  that  time  he  was  editor  and  proprietor  of  the 
Pike  County  Free  Press,  published  at  Pittsfield.  He  signed  the  call  for  the 
editors'  conference  at  Decatur,  his  paper  being  one  of  the  first  to  indorse  the 
suggestion  of  Paul  Selby's  Morgan  Journal  of  Jacksonville  that  such  a  conference 
should  be  held.  Mr.  Nicolay  heard  the  "Lost  Speech,"  but  he  took  no  notes  of 
it  .  He  wrote  to  the  Bloomington  committee  that  the  address  "held  the  audience 
in  such  rapt  attention  that  the  reporters  dropped  their  pencils  and  forgot  their 
work."  Lincoln  not  only  did  not  write  out  that  speech,  but  he  had  no  memor- 
anda. So  much  the  committee  discovered.  The  conclusion  of  the  committee 
was  that  "the  speech  is  still  lost." 


Lawyer,  Philosopher,  Statesman 

"There  was  this  true  of  all  of  his  law  practice,"  said  Judge  Owen  T.  Reeves  of 
Bloomington,  who  saw  much  of  Mr.  Lincoln  in  the  courts  for  fifteen  years  pre- 
ceding the  election  to  the  presidency.  "He  impressed  court  and  jurymen  with 
his  absolute  sincerity.  Mr.  Lincoln  assisted  the  state's  attorney  in  prosecuting 
a  fellow  who  had  killed  somebody.  Leonard  Swett  defended  the  man,  and 
acquitted  him  on  the  ground  of  insanity.  It  was  reported  afterward  that  Mr.  Lin- 
coln said  that  was  the  last  time  he  would  ever  assist  in  the  prosecution  of  a  man 
charged  with  murder.  That  was  about  1857.  If  Mr.  Lincoln  was  employed  in  a 
case  where  the  other  side  had  little  or  nothing  to  it  he  would  ridicule  it  out  of 
court.  I  remember  a  man  named  Phil  Miller  brought  a  law  suit  to  recover  dam- 
ages from  a  man  named  Jones  in  a  neighborhood  above  here.  The  claim  for 
damages  was  based  on  an  alleged  assault.  Phil  went  on  the  stand  and  described 
the  assault  as  having  been  a  kind  of  running  fight  over  a  ten-acre  field.  Mr. 
Lincoln  pressed  the  plaintiff  on  the  cross-examination,  bringing  out  fully  all  of 
the  details  of  the  affair,  which  had  not  resulted  in  serious  injury.  When  the  time 
came  to  argue  the  case  to  the  jury  Mr.  Lincoln  dwelt  on  the  evidence  and  said: 
'I  submit  to  you  that  for  a  fight  which  spread  all  over  a  ten-acre  field  this  is  about 
the  smallest  crop  of  a  ten-acre  fight  you  gentlemen  ever  saw.' " 


"When  Mr.  Lincoln  was  busy  preparing  a  plea  or  writing  an  instruction,  noth- 
ing going  on  around  him  interested  him  or  attracted  his  notice,"  Judge  Reeves 
said. 

This  complete  mental  abstraction  is  described  by  others  who  knew  Mr. 
Lincoln.  J.  H.  Burnham  of  Bloomington,  when  he  was  editor  of  the  Pantagraph, 
had  a  personal  experience.  He  sat  in  the  courtroom  one  day  waiting  for  Mr. 
Lincoln  to  make  a  speech. 

"Whenever  I  looked  toward  him,"  said  Mr.  Burnham,  "he  was  apparently 
gazing  abstractedly  into  my  own  eyes.  Again  and  again  I  felt  his  eyes  upon  me 
with  an  expression  as  if  I  reminded  him  of  some  one  whom  he  had  once  known.  Yet 
I  really  believed  his  mental  abstraction  was  so  great  that  he  actually  had  no  idea 
of  my  presence." 

The  reverse  of  this  complete  abstraction  of  mind  was  true  of  Mr.  Lincoln. 
When  Mr.  Lincoln  observed  or  directed  his  mind  toward  anybody  or  anything  he 
received  and  retained  impressions  which  were  amazingly  definite  and  lasting. 

"Mr.  Lincoln,"  Judge  Reeves  said,  "had  a  faculty  of  asking  questions  of 
persons  who  had  knowledge  of  any  particular  subject  which  would  draw  out  all  of 
the  knowledge  they  possessed.  He  would  sit  in  the  hotel  when  not  engaged  in 
court  and  carry  on  conversations  with  various  persons.  He  would  describe  the 
pioneer  days  and  the  pioneer  practice  with  great  detail.  But  I  never  knew  him  to 
tell  a  story  unless  it  was  in  illustration  of  something  else  which  had  come  up  in 
the  conversation.  I  never  heard  him  tell  a  story  which  wasn't  apposite  and 
illustrative." 

"The  simplicity  of  Mr.  Lincoln,"  Judge  Reeves  said,  "was  well  illustrated  by 
an  incident  which  occurred,  while  he  was  addressing  a  jury  in  the  old  courthouse 
here.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  a  way  of  getting  close  to  the  jurors  and  gesticulating  with 


40  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

his  long  arms  over  their  heads.  On  this  occasion  a  button  fastening  his  suspen- 
ders to  the  trousers  gave  way  while  Mr.  Lincoln  was  in  the  midst  of  the  argu- 
ment. Mr.  Lincoln  stopped,  looked  down  to  see  what  had  happened,  and  then  said 
to  the  jury,  'Excuse  me,  gentlemen,  for  a  moment  while  I  fix  my  tackling.'  He 
walked  over  to  the  woodbox  by  the  stove — we  burned  wood  in  those  days — picked 
up  a  splinter,  took  out  his  pocket  knife  and  sharpened  the  splinter  to  a  good  point. 
He  thrust  the  wooden  pin  through  the  cloth  and  fastened  the  suspenders  over 
the  ends.  Returning  to  the  jury,  he  said,  'Now,  gentlemen,  I  am  ready  to  go  on.' " 

An  incident  illustrative  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  philosophic  observation,  Judge 
Reeves  told  in  these  words:  "I  remember  one  morning  coming  up  town  rather 
earlier  than  usual,  and  meeting  Mr.  Lincoln  in  front  of  the  courthouse.  Mr. 
Lincoln  had  his  hands  behind  him,  as  usual.  I  greeted  him  and  asked  him  if  he 
had  been  taking  a  walk. 

"  'Yes,  he  said,  'and  I  came  past  Gridley's  new  house  and  looked  it  over.' 

"Gen.  Asahel  Gridley  was  just  finishing  a  handsome  residence,  much  superior 
to  other  homes  here.  I  remarked  that  Gen.  Gridley  was  going  to  have  a  fine 
house. 

"  'Yes,  it  is  a  fine  house,'  Mr.  Lincoln  said,  'but  I  was  thinking  it  isn't  the 
best  thing  for  a  man  in  a  town  like  Bloomington  to  build  a  house  so  much 
better  than  his  neighbors.' " 

"I  think  it  was  the  most  impressive  speech  I  ever  heard  Lincoln  make," 
Judge  Reeves  said,  as  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  recalling  to  memory  Lincoln 
and  the  "Lost  Speech."  Judge  Reeves  was  a  young  lawyer,  recently  from  Ohio 
when  the  convention,  which  formed  the  Republican  party  of  Illinois,  filled  Major's 
Hall  to  the  doors  in  May,  1856.  He  helped  Jesse  W.  Fell  prepare  the  greeting  to 
the  Republican  Convention  of  Ohio,  which  was  meeting  that  day  in  Columbus  to 
organize  the  new  party  in  that  state. 

"Mr.  Lincoln  was  wonderfully  stirred,"  Judge  Reeves  continued.  "Usually  he 
was  very  calm  and  deliberate  in  his  manner.  That  so-called  'Lost  Speech'  seemed 
to  show  that  he  had  outlined  in  his  mind  the  whole  movement  for  a  new  party. 
He  started  out  with  a  historical  sketch  of  the  legislation  on  the  subject  of  slavery, 
beginning  away  back.  He  referred  to  the  ordinance  of  1787  when  all  of  this 
northwest  territory  was  dedicated  to  freedom.  Then  he  took  up  the  Missouri 
compromise.  Step  by  step  he  came  down  to  the  conditions  then  existing.  My 
recollection  is  that  the  speech  lasted  about  an  hour.  Lincoln's  speech,  as  I 
remember,  was  the  last  one  made.  There  were  Whigs,  Democrats  and  Aboli- 
tionists in  the  convention,  which  was  the  result  of  a  conference  of  editors  of  anti- 
Nebraska  bill  papers  held  in  Decatur  the  22d  of  February,  Washington's  birth- 
day. Paul  Selby  of  Jacksonville  was  the  leading  spirit  of  that  editorial  conference. 
The  Nebraska  bill  was,  in  effect,  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  compromise  of  1820, 
fixing  the  bounds  of  slavery.  General  concessions  were  made  to  secure  harmony 
in  the  Major's  Hall  convention.  The  main  idea  was  opposition  to  extension  of 
slavery  into  the  new  territories.  There  were  nearly  300  delegates  in  the  conven- 
tion. They  appointed  a  state  delegation  to  represent  Illinois  in  the  Philadelphia 
Convention,  which  nominated  Fremont  and  Dayton." 


"I  first  met  Mr.  Lincoln  in  March,  1855,"  Judge  Reeves  continued.  'The 
impression  Mr.  Lincoln  made  upon  me  then  was  that  he  was  a  man  out  of  the 
ordinary  among  men  of  distinction.  I  said  to  Judge  David  Davis,  who  took  very 


Lawyer,  Philosopher,  Statesman  41 

kindly  to  young  lawyers  and  was  inclined  to  assist  them, — I  said  to  him  the 
impression  I  had  formed  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  that  he  was  an  extraordinary  man. 
.  "'H-m!  h-m!  That  is  a  very  correct  impression  you  have  obtained,'  was  the 
answer  Judge  Davis  gave  me  to  my  comment.  I  think  that  Judge  Davis  under- 
stood Mr.  Lincoln  better  than  a  great  many  did.  I  don't  believe  any  man  ever 
lived  who  had  more  perfect  knowledge  of  human  nature  than  had  Mr.  Lincoln. 
Mr.  Lincoln  knew  the  feelings,  the  prejudices,  the  motives  of  common  humanity. 
He  was  a  master  of  all  that.  No  man  had  more  sympathy  for  the  common  people 
than  Mr.  Lincoln  had." 

The  judgment  of  his  Bloomington  friends  Mr.  Lincoln  consulted,  but  he  was 
not  always  guided  by  the  advice  he  sought  upon  political  matters.  Judge  Reeves 
recalled  the  circumstances  of  a  visit  and  a  consultation  Mr.  Lincoln  had  at 
Bloomington  in  1858. 

"The  first  joint  debate  was  at  Ottawa,"  he  said.  "There  Senator  Douglas 
propounded  certain  questions  to  Mr.  Lincoln  to  answer  at  the  next  debate  at 
Freeport.  Mr.  Lincoln  came  to  Bloomington  to  see  Judge  Davis.  Norman  B. 
Judd  came  down  from  Chicago  for  the  conference.  There  was  a  consultation  on 
these  questions  offered  by  Senator  Douglas.  The  answers  to  the  questions  were 
submitted  by  Mr.  Lincoln  and  considered.  Then  Mr.  Lincoln  said,  'I'm  going  to 
propound  certain  questions  to  Douglas.'  He  told  them  the  questions  he  intended 
to  ask.  They  remonstrated  and  said  that  Douglas  would  answer  Lincoln's  ques- 
tions in  a  certain  manner  and  that  the  result  would  be  the  defeat  of  Lincoln  for 
the  Senate.  Mr.  Lincoln  insisted  that  he  would  ask  the  questions,  and  said:  'If 
he  answers  as  you  say  he  will  and  it  defeats  me  for  the  Senate,  it  will  forever 
defeat  him  for  the  presidency.'  And  that  was  the  result.  Mr.  Lincoln  foresaw 
that  if  Douglas  made  the  answers  which  Judge  Davis,  Mr.  Judd  and  the  others 
predicted  Douglas  would  make,  those  answers  would  forever  debar  Douglas  from 
getting  the  support  of  the  Southern  Democrats." 


Wells  H.  Blodgett's  Experience 

Of  Lincoln's  friendliness  toward  younger  men,  there  are  many  recollections. 
Wells  H.  Blodgett  of  St.  Louis,  had  his  experience.  He  was  reading  law  about 
1859  in  Mr.  Judd's  Chicago  office  where  Mr.  Lincoln  visited  whenever  he  came  to 
the  city.  An  acquaintance  sprang  up  between  them.  Mr.  Lincoln  called  the 
young  student  by  his  middle  name  "Howard"  and  gave  him  advice.  Shortly 
before  the  nomination  in  1860,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  in  the  office.  As  he  passed  out  the 
door  one  of  the  law  partners  called  after  him: 

"Are  you  coming  up  to  the  convention,  Lincoln?" 

Mr.  Lincoln  closed  the  door  as  if  he  had  not  heard  or  did  not  intend  to 
answer.  But  he  opened  it  again  and,  looking  in,  said: 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  I  am  not  quite  enough  of  a  candidate  to  stay  away 
and  too  much  of  a  candidate  to  come." 

After  the  nomination  Mr.  Lincoln  attended  a  public  reception  in  Chicago. 
Among  those  who  shook  hands  with  the  nominee,  was  Henry  W.  Blodgett, 
afterwards  the  judge. 

"Where  is  Howard?"  Mr.  Lincoln  asked. 

The  brother  replied  that  he  was  at  the  office. 

"Tell  him  to  come  over,"  said  Mr.   Lincoln. 

Wells  H.  Blodgett  went  to  the  hotel.  There  stood  Mr.  Lincoln,  a  striking 
figure  in  his  first  swallow  tail  suit  and  with  kid  gloves,  once  white  but  now 


42  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

grimy  from  much  hand  shaking.  Mr.  Blodgett  fell  in  line,  when  he  had  nearly 
reached  Mr.  Lincoln,  the  latter  held  up  his  hands  and  said  with  mock  seriousness: 

"Howard,  look  at  this.    Never  go  into  politics." 

Mr.  Blodgett  said  that  Lincoln  never  in  his  life  wore  a  starched  collar;  that 
pictures  depicting  him  wearing  such  a  collar  were  untrue.  Lincoln  always  wore  a 
shirt  with  a  loose  collar,  which  turned  outward  from  his  neck,  plainly  showing  a 
prominent  Adam's  apple. 

The  Rock  Island  Bridge,  said  Col.  Blodgett,  was  the  first  built  across  the 
Mississippi  river.  Owners  of  river  boats  sued  to  have  the  draw  bridge  removed, 
as  obstructing  river  navigation.  Their  contention  was  that  a  boat  needed  a  space 
150  feet  wide  in  order  to  pass  up  and  down  the  river.  Lincoln,  who  was  on  the 
side  of  the  owners  of  the  bridge,  argued  that  the  interests  of  the  people  wishing 
to  cross  the  river  were  equal  to  those  of  people  going  up  or  down  the  stream.  He 
said  Lincoln  argued  that  at  intersecting  stfeets  it  was  necessary  for  people  going 
one  way  to  wait  until  people  going  at  right  angles  had  passed,  turn  and  turn 
about.  Arguing  along  this  line,  Lincoln  contended  that  boats  and  people  cross- 
ing the  river  should  take  turns  while  the  draw  bridge  closed  and  opened.  He 
said  the  bridge  offered  ample  space  for  boats  to  go  up  and  down  and  that  the 
river  people  were  straining  a  point  when  they  wanted  space  enough  to  turn 
about  right  at  the  bridge.  Lincoln  and  his  associate  lawyers  won  the  case  and 
there  is  to-day  a  bridge  across  the  river  at  Rock  Island. 


A  Land  Case 

Lincoln's  popular  fame  as  a  lawyer  rested  largely  upon  his  convincing  power 
before  juries.  But  Lincoln  was  more  than  a  jury  lawyer.  He  could  untangle 
the  knotty  land  cases  in  a  way  to  make  those  who  listened  wonder  why  they  had 
thought  them  difficult.  J.  H.  Cheney  of  Bloomington  went  down  to  Springfield 
in  August,  1853,  to  consult  Lincoln  about  the  title  to  a  piece  of  land. 

"I  took  with  me,"  he  said,  "a  letter  of  introduction  from  Gen.  Asahel  Gridley 
of  this  place.  Upon  entering  his  office  I  found  Lincoln  in  and  presented  my  letter 
from  Gen.  Gridley.  I  stated  my  case.  Lincoln  gave  close  attention,  asking  a 
few  questions  as  I  proceeded.  When  I  had  finished  he  talked  about  the  case, 
making  every  point  clear,  so  clear,  indeed,  that  I  wondered  why  I  had  come.  It 
seemed  as  if  every  one  should  have  understood  the  case.  Lincoln  concluded  by 
saying  that  I  had  a  good  title  to  the  land,  and  then  asked,  'What  did  old  Grid, 
say  about  it?'  I  told  him  Gen.  Gridley  had  said  he  thought  my  title  a  good  one, 
but  advised  me  to  see  him.  Lincoln's  comment  was,  'Grid,  is  a  good  lawyer, 
and  he  knows.'  I  then  asked  him  how  much  he  charged  for  the  advice.  He  said, 
'I  reckon  if  it  is  worth  anything,  it  is  worth  $10,'  which  I  paid." 

Mr.  Cheney  had  an  experience  with  Mr.  Lincoln  later  in  which  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  the  seeker  after  information,  and  Mr.  Cheney  was  the  giver. 

"It  was  in  the  spring  of  1859,"  said  Mr.  Cheney,  "when  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
in  Bloomington  attending  court.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  stopping  at  the  Pike  House. 
He  was  in  the  office  reading  what  I  took  to  be  a  comic  almanac.  He  seemed  to 
be  very  much  amused  and  would  frequently  chuckle  to  himself.  A  gentleman  and 
I  were  discussing  difference  in  weights  of  cattle  before  and  after  being  fed  and 
watered.  Mr.  Lincoln  addressed  us  and  said:  'Gentlemen,  I  have  been  interested 
in  your  conversation.  As  a  matter  of  information,  I  would  like  to  know  what 
the  shrinkage  would  be." 


The  "Lost  Speech" 


Upon  Judge  Reuben  M.  Benjamin  the  "Lost  Speech"  of  Mr.  Lincoln  made  a 
peculiar  impression. 

"It  so  happened,"  said  Judge  Benjamin,  sitting  at  a  table  in  the  law  library 
of  Bloomington,  "that  I  was  in  Washington  when  the  anti-Nebraska  bill  passed 
the  Senate  on  May,  1854.  I  had  been  principal  of  Hopkins  Academy  at  Old 
Hadley  in  Massachusetts  the  winter  before,  and  had  gone  down  to  Washington 
on  a  week's  vacation.  I  went  up  to  the  capitol  at  12  o'clock,  midday,  and  I 
didn't  leave  until  the  bill  passed  at  1  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  heard  Douglas, 
Lewis  Cass,  who  was  the  only  one  to  read  what  he  had  to  say;  Sumner,  Gwinn, 
Butler  of  South  Carolina,  Mason,  Seward,  Chase  and  Benjamin  of  Louisiana, 
speak  upon  the  measure.  One  thing  impressed  me  so  vividly  that  I  can  now  see 
Sumner  turning  toward  James  Murray  Mason  and  pointing  to  him,  as  he  quoted 
what  George  Mason,  his  grandfather,  had  said  about  slavery  when  he  refused  to 
sign  the  constitution  because  it  contained  the  clause  deferring  the  abolition  of  the 
slave  trade.  I  came  to  Bloomington  in  April,  1856,  and  entered  the  law  office  of 
Asahel  Gridley  and  John  H.  Wickhizer.  On  the  wall  of  the  office  I  read  in  Mr. 
Wickhizer's  handwriting:  "The  repeal  of  the  Missouri  compromise  will  lead  to 
civil  war."  With  the  recollection  of  that  debate  in  the  Senate  I  listened  to  Mr. 
Lincoln  as  he  made  his  speech  in  Major's  Hall  on  May  29,  1856.  The  "Lost 
Speech"  was  not  rhetorical,  but  it  was  logical.  Every  now  and  then  Mr.  Lincoln 
threw  in  some  statement  like  a  blow  from  a  sledgehammer.  Familiar  as  I  felt 
that  I  was  with  the  subject  of  extension  of  slavery  in  the  territories,  from  having 
heard  the  leaders  of  both  parties  discuss  it  exhaustively  at  that  session  in  the 
Senate,  I  was  deeply  moved  by  the  manner  in  which  Mr.  Lincoln  handled  the 
subject." 

"That  Major's  Hall  convention,"  continued  Judge  Benjamin,  "was  made  up 
of  elements  which  differed  widely,  but  which  were  agreed  upon  opposition  to 
extension  of  slavery  in  the  territories.  And  that  was  the  issue  to  which  Mr. 
Lincoln  addressed  himself  as  the  one  great  question  before  the  country.  There 
were  Democtrats,  like  Palmer,  who  presided  over  the  convention;  Abolitionists, 
like  Owen  Lovejoy  and  John  Wentworth,  and  Whigs,  like  David  Davis  and  O.  H. 
Browning.  The  main  thing  in  the  resolutions,  as  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  speech,  was 
opposition  to  extension  of  slavery  into  the  territories.  The  'Lost  Speech'  of  Mr. 
Lincoln  at  the  Bloomington  convention  was  very  like  what  is  known  as  the 
Peoria  speech,  delivered  in  1854." 

A  few  months  after  that  Bloomington  convention,  Judge  Benjamin  had  his 
first  personal  relationship  with  Mr.  Lincoln.  Judge  Benjamin,  after  a  study  of  the 
Illinois  practice,  felt  prepared  for  admission  to  the  bar.  He  made  application. 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  appointed  by  the  court  to  examine  him.  He  made  some  inquiries 
and  wrote  out  the  certificate.  The  part  of  the  examination  which  left  the  strong- 
est impression  on  the  applicant's  mind  was  that  Mr.  Lincoln  omitted  what  was 
quite  customary  in  those  days  with  examining  committees — extension  of  courtesy 
by  the  candidate  at  another  kind  of  bar.  There  was  no  treating  when  Judge 
Benjamin  was  passed  by  Abraham  Lincoln. 


44  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

When  He  Was  Just  "Bob's  Father" 

"The  only  time  I  ever  saw  Abraham  Lincoln  was  when  I  was  a  student  at 
Exeter,  N.  H.,"  said  Professor  Marshall  S.  Snow  when  he  was  dean  of  Washing- 
ton University.  "His  son,  Robert,  was  at  Phillips-Exeter  Academy,  in  the  class 
above  me.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  in  New  York  the  last  of  February,  1860,  to 
make  his  famous  Cooper  Union  speech  against  slavery.  He  came  up  to  Exeter 
to  see  'Bob'  for  a  day.  I  think,  perhaps,  he  came  to  stay  over  Sunday.  The 
national  campaign  was  opening,  but  the  presidential  nominations  had  not  been 
made.  We  had  heard  of  Lincoln,  had  read  his  speeches,  but  I  don't  think  any 
of  us  regarded  him  as  likely  to  be  the  Republican  nominee  for  president.  We 
were  for  Seward,  the  New  York  candidate.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  Mr.  Lin- 
coln was  coming  to  Exeter,  the  Republican  committee  arranged  for  a  meeting 
at  the  Town  Hall,  which  would  hold  about  800  people.  There  were  about  ninety 
of  us  boys  in  the  academy  at  that  time.  'Bob'  was  a  neat-looking  boy,  a  favorite 
in  the  school  and  popular  with  the  girls  of  Exeter.  We  turned  out  in  full  force 
for  the  meeting  to  see  'Bob's'  father  as  well  as  to  hear  Mr.  Lincoln  speak.  Prof. 
Wentworth  presided." 

The  dean  smiled,  as  he  recalled  the  scene  of  forty-nine  years  before  and 
described  it. 

"Judge  Underwood  of  Virginia  had  accompanied  Mr.  Lincoln  to  Exeter. 
He  was  a  short  man.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  very  tall.  They  came  on  the  stage 
together.  The  contrast  was  striking.  When  they  sat  down  Judge  Underwood's 
feet  did  not  reach  the  floor.  Mr.  Lincoln's  legs  were  so  long  he  had  trouble 
in  disposing  of  them  and  twisted  them  about  under  the  chair  to  get  them  out  of 
the  way.  One  of  the  boys  leaned  over  and  whispered:  'Look  here!  Don't 
you  feel  kind  of  sorry  for  Bob?'  We  didn't  laugh.  We  were  sympathetic  for 
'Bob'  because  his  father  didn't  make  a  better  appearance.  The  girls  whispered 
to  each  other,  'Isn't  it  too  bad  Bob's  got  such  a  homely  father.' " 

The  dean  mused  a  few  moments,  calling  back  that  impression  of  his  student 
days,  and  went  on: 

"Mr.  Lincoln  wore  no  beard  at  that  time.  His  hair  was  mussed  up.  It  stood 
in  all  directions.  As  he  sat  there  in  the  chair  he  looked  as  if  he  was  ready  to 
fall  to  pieces  and  didn't  care  if  he  did.  Judge  Underwood  spoke  first,  for  about 
twenty  minutes.  We  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  him.  We  were  looking  at 
Mr.  Lincoln.  I  remember  I  thought  at  the  time  he  was  the  most  melancholy 
man  I  had  ever  seen.  When  Mr.  Lincoln  was  introduced  he  got  up  slowly  until 
he  stood  there  as  straight  as  an  arrow  in  that  long  black  coat.  He  hadn't  spoken 
ten  minutes  until  everybody  was  carried  away.  We  forgot  all  about  his  looks. 
Exeter  was  full  of  people  of  culture.  It  was  a  place  to  which  people  moved 
when  they  retired  from  active  life.  The  audience  was  one  of  educated,  cultivated 
people.  I  never  heard  such  applause  in  that  hall  as  Mr.  Lincoln  received  that 
night.  He  spoke  nearly  an  hour.  There  was  no  coarseness,  no  uncouthness  of 
speech  or  manner.  Every  part  fitted  into  the  whole  argument  perfectly.  As  I 
recall  it,  the  Exeter  speech  followed  closely  the  lines  of  the  Cooper  Union 
address,  which  was  on  slavery.  I  suppose  it  had  been  carefully  prepared.  I 
know  it  captured  all  of  us.  When  the  meeting  closed  we  went  up  to  the  plat- 
form and  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Lincoln,  telling  him  how  proud  we  were  to 
have  the  honor  of  meeting  Bob's  father.  Mr.  Lincoln  has  always  been  to  me  the 
man  I  saw  and  heard  in  that  town  hall  at  Exeter." 


They  Heard  the  Final  Debate 

Sixteen  years  and  three  weeks  after  he  had  shocked  the  dignity  and  aroused 
the  resentment  of  that  community  by  the  farcical  meeting  with  "Jim"  Shields, 
Abraham  Lincoln  came  to  Alton  to  meet  Stephen  A.  Douglas  in  the  greatest 
debate  duel  in  American  history.  A  tablet  in  bronze  on  the  front  of  the  city  hall 
records  the  date,  October  15,  1858,  and  the  site  of  the  platform.  This  city  hall 
had  been  built  not  long  before.  It  presented  the  appearance  of  new  brick  walls 
then.  Now  it  is  smart  looking  under  the  latest  of  several  coats  of  paint.  The 
wooden  platform  built  against  the  wall  overlooked  a  large  plaza.  Two  old  residents 
of  Alton  who  attended  the  meeting  brought  back  vividly  the  scene  of  that  October 
day.  One  of  them,  J.  H.  Yager,  stood  well  back  in  the  throng,  thrilled  by  the 
words  of  Lincoln  and  not  missing  the  comments  and  the  manner  of  those  about 
him.  The  other,  Henry  Guest  McPike,  was  one  of  the  twenty-five  leaders  of  the 
two  parties  who  sat  on  the  platform. 

Better  natural  vantage  for  public  speaking  it  would  be  difficult  to  find.  To 
the  eastward  the  surface  rises  like  an  amphitheater,  but  with  easy  slope.  South- 
westward  the  open  space  extended  to  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi.  From  his 
seat  on  the  platform,  while  waiting  for  Douglas  to  fill  his  time,  Lincoln  could 
look  across  to  the  island  where  he  had  sat  on  a  log  awaiting  for  seconds  and  peace- 
makers to  determine  whether  the  code  required  him  to  match  broadswords  with 
Shields.  Quite  possibly  the  funny  duel  never  occurred  to  Lincoln,  for  this  was 
the  last  of  the  seven  joint  debates,  and,  according  to  the  local  traditions,  Lincoln 
spoke  with  a  great  deal  of  spirit.  He  drove  home  his  points  with  more  than  his 
ordinary  energy.  He  seemed  to  realize  that  this  was  his  last  chance  at  Douglas 
and  that  he  was  completing  the  record. 

"We  could  almost  feel  the  war  corning,"  said  Mr.  Yager,  as  he  recalled  the 
degree  in  which  Lincoln  aroused  the  Republicans  that  day.  The  plaza  is  paved 
with  brick  now.  It  is  the  center  from  which  the  seven  Altons  radiate  up  the 
valleys  and  over  the  hills,  occupying  a  considerable  section  of  Illinois. 

"There  was  no  paving  then,"  described  Mr.  Yager.  "The  surface  was  rougher 
than  it  is  there.  Over  on  that  corner  was  the  Presbyterian  Church.  Lincoln  and 
Douglas  were  escorted  from  the  hotel  by  committees  made  up  of  the  principal 
men  of  the  two  parties  in  Alton.  Douglas  came  down  that  street  from  the  old 
Alton  House  on  the  arm  of  Judge  H.  W.  Billings.  R.  P.  Tansey,  who  afterwards 
moved  to  St.  Louis  and  became  president  of  the  Merchants'  Exchange,  was  with 
them,  and  Thomas  Dimmock,  the  editor.  Zephaniah  B.  Joab  was  another  member 
of  the  Democratic  committee  that  day.  Some  of  those  who  escorted  Lincoln  to 
the  stand  were  Gov.  Cyrus  Edwards,  Col.  F.  S.  Rutherford,  George  T.  Brown, 
Henry  G.  McPike  and  John  M.  Pearson  of  Godfrey." 

Mr.  Yager  and  Mr.  McPike  agreed  that,  notwithstanding  the  immensity  of  the 
gathering,  one  of  the  greatest  ever  seen  in  Alton,  the  speakers  could  be  heard 
distinctly.  They  recalled  the  not  altogether  encouraging  figure  Lincoln  presented 
as  he  sat  on  the  platform  awaiting  his  turn  to  speak,  and  they  also  remembered 
that  Lincoln  filled  the  Republicans  with  enthusiasm  before  he  had  spoken  half  a 
dozen  sentences.  "We  felt  so  good  we  didn't  know  what  to  do,"  said  Mr.  Yager. 

"A  house  divided  against  itself  can  not  stand.  I  believe  this  government  can 
not  endure  permanently  half  slave  and  half  free,"  was  the  declaration  which  Lin- 


46  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

coin  had  made  at  the  beginning  of  his  campaign,  and  which  he  had  reiterated  at 
the  several  debates.  Douglas  had,  as  often,  artfully  interpreted  this  declaration 
to  mean  that  Lincoln  was  for  disunion. 

"In  other  words,"  Douglas  would  say  when  his  turn  came,  "Mr.  Lincoln 
asserts  as  a  fundamental  principle  of  this  government  that  there  must  be  uniform- 
ity in  the  laws  and  domestic  institutions  of  each  and  all  the  States  of  the  Union; 
and  he  therefore  invites  all  the  nonslaveholding  States  to  band  together,  organ- 
ize as  one  body  and  make  war  upon  slavery  in  Kentucky,  upon  slavery  in  Virginia, 
upon  the  Carolinas,  upon  slavery  in  all  the  slaveholding  States  in  this  Union,  and 
to  persevere  in  that  war  until  it  is  exterminated." 

The  meeting  at  Alton  was  to  close  the  joint  debates.  Douglas,  by  the  terms 
of  the  agreement,  had  the  advantage  of  closing  at  this  final  meeting.  Standing 
where  he  looked  over  the  heads  of  his  hearers  to  valleys  and  hills  of  a  slave 
State,  Lincoln  seemed  to  feel  that  he  must  make  his  position  plain  beyond  all 
misinterpretation.  He  repeated  to  his  Alton  hearers  his  "A  house  divided  against 
itself  cannot  stand."  He  quoted  from  Douglas  the  meaning  attributed  by  the 
latter  to  the  declaration,  and  then,  raising  his  voice  above  the  usual  tone,  and 
with  impassioned  manner,  Lincoln  exclaimed: 

"He  knows  that  is  false!"    . 

Recalling  the  words  and  the  startling  effect  upon  the  listeners,  Mr.  Yager 
said  the  Republicans  raised  a  mighty  shout.  The  Democrats  looked  at  one 
another  in  amazement.  One  of  them,  an  eminently  respectable  citizen  of  Alton, 
who  stood  beside  Mr.  Yager,  burst  out  with:  "That  is  disgraceful.  I  won't  stay 
here  any  longer."  He  made  his  way  out  of  the  crowd. 


Three  brothers,  John  Hitt,  Emory  Hitt  and  Robert  R.  Hitt,  made  hay  one 
summer  forenoon  of  the  year  1856,  on  the  farm  near  Mount  Morris.  They 
knocked  off  in  time  to  reach  Oregon,  in  Ogle  County,  for  the  speaking  that 
afternoon.  Abraham  Lincoln,  John  Wentworth  and  Martin  P.  Sweet  addressed 
an  audience  of  3000  people. 

"Their  object  was  to  induce  the  people  to  vote  for  Fremont  and  Dayton," 
said  John  Hitt.  "The  people  of  Ogle  County  were  convinced  that  day.  I  thought 
that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  an  intellectual  giant.  From  that  day  I  trusted  him.  I  never 
doubted  that  he  was  a  safe  leader." 

Two  years  after  that  summer  afternoon  at  Oregon,  in  Ogle  County,  Robert 
R.  Hitt  was  the  stenographer  who  traveled  with  Mr.  Lincoln  and  made  the  reports 
of  the  joint  debates  between  Lincoln  and  Douglas.  John  Hitt  was  present  at  the 
last  of  the  debates  which  was  held  at  Alton.  He  recalled  an  interesting  incident 
of  that  day,  which  showed  Robert  R.  Hitt  to  advantage  as  a  diplomat,  in  which 
capacity  he  afterward  obtained  much  distinction,  before  his  district  placed  him  in 
Congress  for  life. 

"I  was  one  of  a  party  that  dined  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  that  day,"  said 
John  Hitt,  "at  the  leading  hotel  in  Alton.  When  the  debate  was  over  Judge 
Trumbull  led  the  party  to  the  table.  He  occupied  a  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table. 
To  his  right  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  were  seated.  Horace  White,  who  accompanied 
Mr.  Lincoln  as  the  representative  of  the  State  Central  Committee;  Robert  R. 
Hitt,  my  brother,  who  was  shorthand  reporter  for  the  Tribune,  and  I,  were 
seated  opposited  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln.  Senator  Trumbull  conversed  with  Mr. 
Lincoln  in  an  animated  manner.  In  reply  to  the  question  of  Mr.  Lincoln  whether 
any  impression  had  been  made  upon  the  people,  Mr.  Trumbull  said  that  public 


They  Heard  the  Final  Debate  47 

meetings  in  Madison  County  were  usually  undemonstrative,  but  he  thought  a 
favorable  impression  had  been  made.  Mrs.  Lincoln  invited  Mr.  White  and  my 
brother  Robert  to  go  with  Mr.  Lincoln  and  herself  to  Springfield  and  rest  for  the 
coming  week.  My  brother  Robert  thanked  Mrs.  Lincoln  for  her  courtesy,  and  said, 
in  declining,  that  he  would  never  call  at  her  house  until  she  lived  in  the  White 
House.  She  laughed  at  the  suggestion,  and  said  there  was  not  much  prospect  of 
such  a  residence  very  soon." 


Impressions  Made  on  J.  S.  Ewing 

James  S.  Ewing  of  the  Bloomington  bar,  boy  and  man,  through  a  decade 
and  a  half  saw  much  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  His  father  owned  and  conducted  the 
National  Hotel  in  Bloomington  as  early  as  1844  and  1845.  That  was  the  only 
substantial  tavern  in  town,  the  place  where  everybody  came  to  talk  politics. 
There  Mr.  Lincoln,  John  T.  Stewart  and  the  other  lawyers  stopped  when  they 
came  to  Bloomington  to  attend  the  terms  of  court  twice  a  year.  Judge  Samuel 
H.  Treat  was  the  circuit  judge  at  that  early  period. 

"Mr.  Lincoln  stayed  at  my  father's  house,"  Mr.  Ewing  said.  "I  was  a  boy 
of  9.  I  knew  Mr.  Lincoln  as  a  boy  of  that  age  might.  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
going  to  the  trials  to  hear  the  speeches.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  a  show.  Of 
course  I  heard  Mr.  Lincoln  try  a  great  many  cases.  I  knew  him  all  through  my 
boyhood  and  to  the  time  I  was  admitted  to  the  bar.  One  of  the  most  interesting 
things  I  recall  was  a  declaration  I  heard  Mr.  Lincoln  make  about  temperance.  I 
was  present  in  a  room  in  the  National  Hotel  when  Senator  Stephen  A.  Douglas 
was  in  Bloomington  in  1854  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  speech.  Mr.  Lincoln 
came  in  to  call  on  Mr.  Douglas.  There  was  a  bottle  of  whiskey  on  the  sideboard 
or  mantel.  Mr.  Douglas  said,  after  the  greetings: 

"'Lincoln,  won't  you  have  something?' 

"  'No,'  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  'I  guess  not.' 

"'What,'  said  Mr.  Douglas,  'do  you  belong  to  a  temperance  society?' 

"  'No,'  replied  Mr.  Lincoln,  'I  don't  belong  to  any  temperance  society,  but  I 
am  temperate  in  this  that  I  don't  drink  anything.' 

"I  believe,"  said  Mr.  Ewing,  "that  that  was  a  statement  of  his  exact  position 
on  the  temperance  question.  He  didn't  drink  anything  himself,  but  he  didn't  try 
to  dictate  what  any  one  else  should  do." 


"Mr.  Lincoln  was  fond  of  children.  He  took  notice  of  boys,  remembered 
them  and  spoke  to  them  by  name,"  Mr.  Ewing  said.  "My  father  was  a  Democrat. 
He  nicknamed  one  of  my  brothers  'Democrat'  and  he  went  by  that  name  for  years. 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  Whig;  one  day  he  commented  on  the  nickname  'Democrat.' 
He  said  to  my  other  brother,  the  one  next  to  me,  'I'll  call  you  Whig.'  That  was 
Judge  W.  G.  Ewing  of  Chicago.  He  never  has  gotten  rid  of  the  name  Mr.  Lin- 
coln' bestowed  upon  him.  He  has  always  been  called  by  his  friends,  'Whig 
Ewing,'  instead  of  William  Ewing.  I  only  mention  this  to  show  the  attention 
Mr.  Lincoln  paid  to  boys,  even  to  the  extent  of  knowing  their  names.  Although 
Mr.  Lincoln  and  my  father  differed  in  politics,  they  were  great  friends." 


48  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

How  the  News  Game 

At  the  close  of  election  day,  1860,  Lyman  Trumbull  and  Henry  Guest  McPike, 
descendant  of  the  old  revolutionary  hero,  took  the  train  at  Alton  for  Springfield. 
The  issues  were  too  exciting  to  rest  until  morning  without  knowing  the  result. 
Trumbull  was  close  to  Lincoln.  McPike,  younger  than  either  Lincoln  or  Trum- 
bull, had  been  much  in  their  company.  It  was  late  at  night  when  the  Alton  train 
reached  Springfield.  Out  in  front  of  the  old  State  capitol  local  orators  were 
addressing  the  people,  and  from  time  to  time  returns  were  read  out.  Trumbull 
led  the  way  to  the  telegraph  office.  Upstairs  in  a  room  were  found  Mr.  Lincoln, 
/esse  K.  DuBois  and  Edward  Baker. 

"Lincoln  was  sitting  on  a  kind  of  sofa,"  said  Mr.  McPike,  "Du  Bois,  who 
was  a  stout  man,  was  seated.  Ed  Baker  was  looking  over  the  dispatches  as  they 
came  in  and  trying  to  figure  out  something  conclusive  from  them.  After 
greetings  all  around  Trumbull  wanted  to  know  how  it  looked.  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
very  quiet,  less  excited  than  anybody  else  in  the  party. 

"  'We  are  working  now  on  New  York  State,'  Baker  said,  in  reply  to  Judge 
Trumbull's  question.  'We  have  just  had  something  from  New  York  City  that 
looks  very  well.' 

"  'Well,'  said  Judge  Trumbull,  'if  we  get  New  York  that  settles  it.' 

"  'Yes,'  said  Baker,  'that  will  settle  it.' 

"We  sat  there,  nobody  else  saying  much,  but  all  listening  to  Baker  as  he 
looked  over  the  dispatches  and  commented  on  them.  I  don't  know  what  time  it 
was,  but  it  must  have  been  very  late,  when  Ed  Baker  got  a  dispatch  and  began  to 
tell  what  was  in  it.  He  was  so  excited  he  did  not  read  clearly. 

"'How  is  that?'  shouted  old  Jesse,  sitting  up.  He  had  been  half  asleep  for 
some  time. 

"Baker  began  again  and  read  out  the  announcement  that  Lincoln  had  carried 
New  York. 

"Du  Bois  jumped  to  his  feet.  'Hey!'  he  shouted,  and  then  began  singing  as 
loud  as  he  could  a  campaign  song.  'Ain't  You  Glad  You  Jined  the  Republicans?' 

"Lincoln  got  up  and  Trumbull  and  the  rest  of  us.  We  were  all  excited.  There 
were  hurried  congratulations.  Suddenly  old  Jesse  grabbed  the  dispatch  which 
settled  it  out  of  Ed  Baker's  hands  and  started  on  a  run  for  the  door.  We  followed, 
Baker  after  DuBois,  I  was  next,  and  then  came  Trumbull,  with  Lincoln  last.  The 
staircase  was  narrow  and  steep.  We  went  down  it,  still  on  the  run.  DuBois 
rushed  across  the  street  toward  the  meeting  so  out  of  breath  he  couldn't  speak 
plain.  All  he  could  say  was  "Spatch!  'spatch!'  He  was  going  over  with  the  news 
to  the  meeting.  Ed  Baker  followed  him.  Lincoln  and  Trumbull  stopped  on  the 
sidewalk. 

"  'Well,  I  guess  I'll  go  over  to  the  speaking,'  said  Trumbull. 

"  'Well,  judge,  good  night.  I  guess  I'll  go  down  and  tell  Mary  about  it,'  said 
Lincoln,  still  perfectly  cool,  the  coolest  man  in  the  party.  Across  the  street  10,000 
crazy  people  were  shouting,  throwing  up  their  hats,  slapping  and  kicking  one 
another.  They  had  just  heard  the  dispatch  that  old  Jesse  had  grabbed  from  Ed 
Baker.  You  never  saw  such  a  sight.  And  down  the  street  walked  Lincoln,  with- 
out a  sign  of  anything  unusual." 


The  Lincoln  Scrapbooks 

The  most  popular  form  which  interest  in  Lincolniana  takes  is  the  scrapbook. 
Thousands  of  people  keep  Lincoln  scrapbooks.  They  clip  and  paste  the  stories 
and  reminiscences  of  Lincoln  that  appear  in  the  newspapers  and  magazines. 
Some  of  them  exercise  selection.  Others  take  everything  they  find  about  Lincoln, 
making  book  after  book.  Library  shelves  are  occupied  with  long  rows  of  Lin- 
coln scrapbooks.  Instead  of  the  interest  decreasing,  there  are  to-day  more  of 
these  Lincoln  scrapbooks  being  filled  than  ever  before. 

The  first  Lincoln  scrapbook  was  made  by  Lincoln  himself.  It  was  about  four 
inches  long  and  three  inches  wide — a  memorandum  book,  in  which  Mr.  Lincoln 
pasted  clippings  from  newspapers.  He  wrote  on  the  first  leaf  of  the  book: 

"The  following  extracts  are  taken  from  various  speeches  of  mine,  delivered  at 
various  times  and  places,  and  I  believe  they  contain  the  substance  of  all  I  have 
said  about  'negro  equality.'  The  first  three  are  from  my  answer  to  Judge  Doug- 
las October  16,  1854,  at  Peoria." 

Among  his  old  Whig  friends,  many  of  them  from  Kentucky,  who  were  numer- 
ous in  the  central  part  of  Illinois,  Mr.  Lincoln  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to  meet 
the  artful  argument  of  the  Douglas  men  that  the  new  Republican  party  in  1856 
and  1858  meant  "negro  equality."  A  prominent  man  among  these  Kentucky 
Whigs  was  Capt.  James  N.  Brown,  who  called  himself  a  "Lincoln  Republican." 
He  had  been  in  the  Legislature.  He  was  a  man  of  much  popularity  in  Sangamon 
County.  Capt.  Brown  was  willing  to  identify  himself  with  Lincoln's  new  party, 
but  he  shied  at  the  proposition  to  be  a  standard  bearer  by  taking  the  Republican 
nomination  for  the  Legislature  in  1858,  although  Lincoln  was  to  be  the  candidate 
for  United  States  senator.  Mr.  Lincoln  urged;  Capt.  Brown  consented.  But 
when  the  captain  got  into  the  campaign  he  was  met  everywhere  with  the  inquiry 
how  he,  a  Kentuckian,  could  stand  for  a  man  who  said  the  negro  was  as  good  as 
a  white  man. 

Capt.  Brown  went  to  Lincoln  and  said  he  must  have  something  that  would 
plainly  define  Lincoln's  position,  so  that  he  could  meet  the  charge  that  the 
Republicans  were  black  abolitionists.  The  captain  said  he  understood  the  situa- 
tion very  well,  but  he  couldn't  state  it  satisfactorily;  he  wanted  an  answer  he 
could  read.  Mr.  Lincoln  prepared  the  little  scrapbook.  He  added  to 
the  clippings  a  letter  addressed  to  Capt.  Brown.  The  candidate  carried 
the  scrapbook  through  the  remainder  of  the  campaign  of  1858,  reading  from 
it  to  confound  the  Douglas  men.  Whenever,  either  on  the  stump  or  on 
the  street  or  in  private  conversation,  Capt.  Brown  heard  the  charge  of 
"negro  equality"  made  against  Mr.  Lincoln,  he  drew  forth  the  book  and  read 
"Lincoln's  own  words." 


The  second  Lincoln  scrapbook  was  made  in  1858  by  Robert  R.  Hitt.  Mr. 
Hitt  not  only  reported  the  joint  debates;  he  preserved  the  current  newspaper 
accounts,  not  excepting  the  efforts  of  the  Douglas  organs  to  throw  discredit  by 
ridicule  upon  Mr.  Lincoln.  At  Freeport  Lincoln  had  the  opening  speech. 
According  to  the  Chicago  Times  clipping,  the  joint  debate  was  introduced  in  this 
way: 


50  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

"Mr.  Lincoln.     'Fellow-citizens,  ladies  and  gentlemen — ' 
"Deacon  Bross.    'Hold  on,  Lincoln,  you  can't  speak  yet.    Hitt  ain't  here,  and 
there  is  no  use  of  your  speaking  unless  the  Press  and  Tribune  have  a  report.' 


"Mr.  Lincoln.    'Ain't  Hitt  here?  Where  is  he?' 

"A  voice.     'Perhaps  he  is  in  the  crowd.' 

"Deacon  Bross,  after  adjusting  the  green  shawl  around  his  classic  shoulders 
after  the  manner  of  McVicker  in  Brutus,  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  stand  and 
spoke:  'If  Hitt  is  in  the  crowd  he  will  please  to  come  forward.  Is  Hitt  in  the 
crowd?  If  he  is,  tell  him  Mr.  Bross,  of  the  Chicago  Press  and  Tribune,  wants 
him  to  come  up  here  on  the  stand  to  make  a  verbatim  report  for  the  only  paper 
in  the  Northwest  that  has  enterprise  enough  to  publish  speeches  in  full.' 

"Joe  Medill.   'That's  the  talk.' 

"Herr  Kreisman  here  wiped  his  .spectacles  and  looked  into  the  crowd  to  see 
if  he  could  distinguish  Hitt. 

"A  voice.  'If  Hitt  isn't  here,  I  know  a  young  man  from  our  town  that  can 
make  nearly  a  verbatim  report,  I  guess.  Shall  I  call  him?' 

"Deacon  Bross.    'Is  he  here?' 

"A  voice.     'Yes,  I  see  him;  his  name  is  Hitch.' 

"Loud  cries  for  Hitch  were  made  and  messengers  ran  wildly  about  inquiring 
'Where  is  Hitch?  Where  is  Hitch?' 

"After  a  delay  the  moderators  decided  that  the  speaking  must  go  on. 

"Deacon  Bross.  'Well,  wait  (bringing  a  chair),  I'll  report  the  speech,  Lin- 
coln, you  can  now  go  on,  I'll  report  you.' " 


The  idea  of  Deacon  Bross  making  a  verbatim  report  of  Lincoln's  speech  was 
calculated  to  inspire  hilarity. 

About  the  time  of  the  Freeport  meeting  the  Chicago  Times  had  a  grievance 
against  the  deacon.  At  some  gathering,  so  the  story  went,  the  deacon  had  neg- 
lected to  see  that  Matteson  of  the  Times  had  a  chair.  For  weeks  and  months 
afterward  the  Times  printed  in  its  reports  of  various  occurrences  this  single  line: 

"And  Deacon  Bross  spoke." 

Sandwiched  between  paragraphs  of  Lincoln's  speech  at  Freeport;  injected 
into  proceedings  of  the  School  Board  of  Chicago,  sown  broadcast  over  the  local 
page  was  the  inevitable  line: 

"And  Deacon  Bross  spoke." 

In  its  account  of  the  closing  of  the  Freeport  meeting  the  Times  said: 

"During  the  delivery  of  Douglas"  speech  Mr.  Lincoln  was  very  uneasy;  he 
could  not  sit  still  nor  would  his  limbs  sustain  him  while  standing.  He  was  shiv- 
ering, quaking,  trembling,  and  his  agony  during  the  last  fifteen  minutes  of  Judge 
Douglas'  speech  was  positively  painful  to  the  crowd  who  witnessed  his  behavior." 

Then  followed  more  and  worse  of  this  kind  of  abuse  until  the  newspaper  went 
beyond  the  border  of  decency.  Injected  into  the  Times'  report  of  the  Freeport 
debate  was  this: 

"The  reporter  can  not  let  this  opportunity  pass  without  returning  his  thanks 
to  Parson  Lovejoy  for  his  very  gentlemanly  conduct  in  leaning  over  him  during 
the  latter  part  of  Senator  Douglas'  speech  and  commanding,  in  a  loud  voice, 
Mr.  Turner  to  announce  to  the  people  that  he  would  address  them  after  the 
adjournment  of  the  meeting." 

When  the  debate  was  over  Lovejoy,  who  had  been  thoroughly  aroused  by 


The  Lincoln  Scrapbooks  51 

Douglas'  reference  to  "the  nigger" —  Douglas  said  "nigger,"  not  "negro,"  as 
the  Times  reported  him  on  that  occasion — gathered  the  crowd  in  front  of  the 
Brewster  House  and  made  such  an  impassioned  appeal  as  those  who  listened  to 
it  never  forgot.  Lovejoy  was  an  artist  who  could  paint  word  pictures,  and  a 
musician  who  could  touch  the  human  chords.  He  was  a  master  at  showing  the 
emotions.  He  stood  before  that  immense  crowd  that  day  and  held  up  slavery  in 
its  worst  possible  light.  He  told  the  story  of  the  slave  girl's  flight  from  her 
pursuers,  and  his  hearers  breathed  so  hard  you  could  hear  them,  while  their 
dilated  eyes  gleamed  with  passion.  Republicans  with  the  spell  on  them  went 
from  the  Lovejoy  meeting  and  said  to  Stenographer  Hitt: 

"Print  Lovejoy's  speech  instead  of  Lincoln's." 

With  the  help  of  an  ancient  scrapbook  the  late  Congressman  Robert  R.  Hitt 
preserved  the  local  color  and  the  contemporaneous  proportions  of  the  joint 
debates.  Mr.  Hitt  was,  in  1858,  a  law  reporter.  He  had  recently  completed  his 
education  at  Asbury  University.  To  obtain  verbatim  reports  of  the  debates,  the 
Chicago  Press  and  Tribune  engaged  Mr.  Hitt.  When  Mr.  Lincoln  of  Springfield 
challenged  Senator  Douglas  of  Illinois  to  this  series  of  joint  debates,  there  was 
derision  among  Democrats.  The  challenge  was  considered  a  bluff.  Friends  of  the 
senator  professed  to  believe  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  in  earnest.  When  Mr. 
Douglas  accepted  the  challenge  the  prediction  was  common  that  Mr.  Lincoln 
"would  find  some  hole  to  crawl  out."  The  organ  of  Senator  Douglas  was  the 
Chicago  Times.  Its  comment,  as  preserved  in  the  scrapbook  was  in  these  words: 

"If  the  Republican  champion  does  not  effect  a  timely  retreat  there  will  be 
music  at  the  times  and  places  designated  in  Senator  Douglas'  reply  to  Mr.  Lin- 
coln. But  will  Mr.  Lincoln  meet  our  senator?  We  should  like  to  know.  It  is 
evident  from  the  tone  of  the  Republican  papers  that  he  and  his  friends  have 
determined  that  he  shall  not  acquiesce  in  the  very  fair  arrangement  proposed.  It 
is  even  evident,  we  think,  to  all  men  cognizant  of  the  facts,  that  had  Mr.  Lincoln 
or  his  friends  had  any  idea  that  his  challenge  would  be  accepted,  it  never  would 
have  been  sent.  They  waited  until  it  seemed  impossible  for  Senator  Douglas  to 
accept  their  proffer  before  opening  correspondence  with  him;  and  now  that  he 
has  signified  his  willingness  to  meet  Mr.  Lincoln  in  debate  before  the  people  at 
one  central  point  in  each  congressional  district,  the  Republicans  and  their  candi- 
date are  fearing  and  trembling  and  soon  will  be  begging.  Lincoln  will  not  meet 
Douglas;  this  is  what  we  think  will  come  of  the  challenge?" 


Immediately  after  the  first  debate  at  Ottawa  there  broke  out  a  fierce  news- 
paper controversy.  The  issue  was  the  integrity  of  the  stenographic  report  of 
Lincoln's  speech  in  the  Douglas  organ.  Two  papers  printed  what  purported  to 
be  verbatim  reports  of  the  debate.  They  were  the  Press  and  Tribune  of  Chicago 
and  the  Chicago  Times.  But  between  the  two  reports,  so  far  as  Lincoln  was 
concerned,  there  was  very  great  difference.  Mr.  Lincoln's  Ottawa  speech,  as  it 
appeared  in  the  Chicago  Times,  was  a  horrible  mess.  It  abounded  in  ungrammat- 
ical  expressions.  Sentences  were  run  together  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  no  sense. 
Punctuation  marks  were  either  entirely  omitted  or  misplaced.  The  friends  of 
Mr.  Lincoln  immediately  charged  the  Democrats  with  the  despicable  trick  of 
misrepresenting  him.  They  even  went  so  far  as  to  suggest  that  Douglas  himself 
had  access  to  the  manuscript  of  the  stenographer,  and  that  he  distorted  Lincoln's 
speech  so  as  to  make  his  antagonist  appear  ridiculous.  To  this  charge  the 
Democrats  replied  that  Lincoln  had  been  reported  exactly  as  he  spoke,  and  that 


52  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

his  speech  had  been  printed  as  delivered.  They  made  the  counter  charge  that 
Lincoln's  speech  was  taken  by  a  self-appointed  committee  of  Republicans  and 
fixed  up  previous  to  publication.  An  extract  from  the  ancient  scrapbook  is 
peculiarly  interesting.  The  Chicago  Times,  in  conducting  its  side  of  the  con- 
troversy, said: 

"Any  person  who  heard  at  Ottawa  the  speech  of  Abraham,  alias  Old  Abe, 
alias  Abe,  alias  'Spot'  Lincoln,  must  have  been  astonished  at  the  report  of  that 
speech  as  it  appeared  in  the  Press  and  Tribune  of  this  city.  Our  version  of  it 
was  literal.  No  man  who  heard  it  delivered  could  fail  to  recognize  and  acknowl- 
edge the  fidelity  of  our  reporters.  We  did  not  attempt,  much,  to  'fix  up"  the 
bungling  effort;  that  was  not  our  business.  Lincoln  should  have  learned  before 
this  to  'rake  after'  himself.  Or,  rather,  to  supersede  the  necessity  of  'raking  after,' 
by  taking  heed  to  his  own  thoughts  and  experiences.  If  he  ever  gets  into  the 
United  States  Senate,  of  which  there  is  no  earthly  probability,  he  will  have  to  do 
that.  In  the  congressional  arena  the  words  of  debaters  are  snatched  from  their 
lips,  as  it  were,  and  immediately  enter  into  and  become  a  part  of  the  literature 
of  the  country.  But  it  seems,  from  the  difference  between  the  two  versions  of 
Lincoln's  speech,  that  the  Republicans  have  a  candidate  for  the  Senate  of  whose 
bad  rhetoric  and  horrible  jargon  they  are  ashamed,  upon  which,  before  they 
would  publish  it,  they  called  a  council  of  'literary'  men,  to  discuss,  reconstruct 
and  rewrite;  they  dare  not  allow  Lincoln  to  go  in  print  in  his  own  dress;  and 
abuse  us,  the  Times,  for  reporting  him  literally." 


This  controversy  over  the  Democratic  reports  of  Lincoln's  speech  was  waged 
with  great  bitterness  until  long  after  the  seven  debates  were  finished.  Republi- 
cans were  very  sore  about  it.  They  held  Douglas  in  a  large  degree  responsible 
for  the  unjust  treatment.  There  was  something  in  it^which  created  great  sympathy 
for  Lincoln.  The  American  sense  of  fair  play  was  outraged.  Minor  matters 
which  appeal  to  sentiment  often  go  a  long  way  in  politics.  There  is  scarcely 
any  doubt  that  this  misrepresentation  of  Lincoln  cost  Douglas  many  votes,  both 
in  the  senatorial  campaign  and  in  the  presidential  campaign  which  followed  two 
years  later.  Republicans  did  not  forgive  and  forget  the  apparently  shabby  treat- 
ment of  their  candidate  until  the  war  came  on  and  Douglas  with  all  his  might 
espoused  the  Union  cause  and  came  to  the  support  of  President  Lincoln.  That 
was  the  atonement. 

Mr.  Hitt  thought  both  sides  were  probably  wrong  to  some  extent  in  this 
controversy.  It  is  doubtful  if  Douglas  personally  had  anything  to  do  in  the 
first  place  with  the  misreporting  of  Lincoln.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  organ  of  Douglas  treated  Lincoln  in  a  way  of  which  no  self-respecting 
newspaper  would  be  guilty  at  this  day.  The  accident  of  circumstances  combined 
with  the  purpose  of  partisanship  to  make  Lincoln  ridiculous.  Some  things  which 
do  not  appear  in  the  histories  may  be  told  about  the  newspaper  work  on  these 
debates. 

Shorthand  men  who  could  follow  political  speakers  of  all  kinds  were  not 
numerous  in  those  days.  Douglas  brought  with  him  to  Illinois  for  that  campaign 
a  Philadelphia  stenographer — a  Mr.  Sheridan.  The  reports  of  Douglas'  speeches 
which  appeared  in  the  Times  were  the  work  of  Mr.  Sheridan.  Mr.  Sheridan 
did  not  report  Mr.  Lincoln  for  the  Times.  There  was  the  greatest  possible  differ- 
ence in  the  two  speakers.  "There  is  no  orator  in  America  more  correct  in 
rhetoric,  more  clear  in  ideas,  more  direct  in  purpose,  in  all  his  public  addresses 


The  Lincoln  Scrapbooks  53 

than  Stephen  A.  Douglas,"  his  organ  said  in  the  course  of  the  controversy.  This 
was  but  slightly  exaggerated  truth.  People  of  this  generation  who  read  the 
beautifully  rounded  periods  and  clean-cut  sentences  of  Douglas  may  imagine 
the  words  pouring  forth  in  a  rapid,  unbroken  stream.  But  Douglas  was  one  of 
the  most  measured  of  American  orators.  If  he  was  in  public  life  today  he  would 
be  the  delight  of  beginners  in  stenography.  He  was  distinct;  he  paused  between 
sentences;  he  used  short  sentences;  he  rarely  exceeded  120  words  a  minute. 
Every  one  at  all  versed  in  shorthand  work  will  apreciate  what  that  is.  It  means 
a  speed  which  the  ordinary  stenographic  secretary  of  to-day  can  easily  follow. 
It  was  no  trouble  to  report  Douglas.  "The  Little  Giant,"  as  he  was  usually 
called  by  his  admirers,  had  a  deep  bass  voice.  No  bass  voice  can  go  fast.  His 
sonorous  tones  filled  out  the  time  so  that  he  did  not  seem  to  be  speaking  slowly. 
Even-paced  is  probably  a  better  expression  than  deliberate  to  describe  his  manner. 
That  Douglas  uttered  not  nearly  so  many  words  as  Lincoln  in  a  given  period  is 
apparent  in  the  reports  of  the  debates.  Each  had  the  same  time.  But  Lincoln's 
speeches  occupy  more  space  than  Douglas'. 


Lincoln  was  altogether  different.  His  voice  was  clear,  almost  shrill.  Every 
syllable  was  distinct.  But  his  delivery  was  puzzling  to  stenographers.  He  would 
speak  several  words  with  great  rapidity,  come  to  the  word  or  phrase  he  wished 
to  emphasize  and  let  his  voice  linger  and  bear  hard  on  that,  and  then  he  would 
rush  to  the  end  of  the  sentence  like  lightning.  To  impress  the  idea  on  the 
minds  of  his  hearers  was  his  aim;  not  to  charm  the  ear  with  smooth,  flowing 
words.  It  was  very  easy  to  understand  Lincoln.  He  spoke  with  great  clearness. 
But  his  delivery  was  very  irregular.  He  would  devote  as  much  time  to  the  word 
or  two  which  he  wished  to  emphasize  as  he  did  to  half  a  dozen  less  important 
words  following  it.  This  peculiarity  of  Lincoln's  delivery  helped  the  Democrats 
in  carrying  out  a  plan  to  belittle  him.  The  Democratic  organ,  the  Chicago 
Times,  called  Lincoln's  speech,  "weak,  faltering,  childish  twaddle,"  and  endeavored 
to  make  it  appear  so.  At  Ottawa,  on  the  occasion  of  the  opening  debate,  Douglas 
spoke  an  hour.  Lincoln  followed  with  an  hour  and  a  half.  Douglas  closed  in  a 
half  hour.  The  reporting  of  Lincoln  for  the  Democratic  paper  was  done  by 
an  English  stenographer,  who  had  the  old  style.  His  notes  were  almost 
unintelligible  to  the  American  stenographers.  They  were  written  out,  and  the 
editor  of  the  Times,  Mr.  Sheehan,  afterwards  boasted  editorially,  "Lincoln's 
speech  was  printed  verbatim,  just  as  it  came  from  the  reporter."  A  single  sen- 
tence taken  from  the  scrapbook  copy  of  the  Times'  report  will  serve  to  show 
how  Lincoln  was  treated: 

"I  will  remind  him  also  of  a  piece  of  Illinois  of  the  time,  when  the  respected 
party  to  which  the  judge  belongs  was  displeased  with  a  decision  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Illinois,  because  they  had  decided  that  the  governor  could  not 
remove  a  secretary  of  state,  and  he  will  not  deny  that  he  went  in  for  overslaugh- 
ing that  court  by  appointing  five  new  judges,  and  it  ended  in  his  getting  the  name 
of  Judge  in  that  very  way,  thus  breaking  down  the  Supreme  Court,  and  when 
he  tells  me  about  how  a  man  who  shall  be  appointed  on  such  a  principle,  by 
being  questioned,  I  say  judge,  you  know  you  have  tried  it,  and  when  he  seeks 
that,  the  court  will  be  prostituted  below  contempt." 

This  was  very  small  business.  The  newspaper  which  would  instruct  its 
telegraph  editor  and  proofreader  to  follow  an  unrevised  shorthand  report  with 
that  kind  of  fidelity  in  this  day  and  generation  would  hurt  itself  more  than  the 


54  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

orator  it  aimed  to  disgrace.  But  this  was  the  way  Lincoln  was  reported  at 
Ottawa,  and  the  Douglas  organ  glorified  in  the  showing.  The  Times  continued 
to  print  f-ull  reports,  and  continued  to  claim  that  it  printed  them  just  as  they 
came  from  the  reporter.  It  was  noticeable,  however,  that  the  report  of  Lincoln's 
speech  at  Freeport,  the  second  debate,  was  somewhat  better.  This  may  be 
accounted  for  by  the  discovery  on  the  part  of  the  organ  of  Douglas  that  it  had 
made  a  mistake  in  its  treatment  of  his  antagonist.  After  the  Freeport  report, 
the  Times,  acknowledging  the  improvement  in  the  reading  of  the  Lincoln  speech, 
said  : 

"The  debate  at  Freeport  was  remarkable,  first  for  the  immense  ability  dis- 
played by  Douglas,  second  for  the  weakness  of  Lincoln.  We  grant  that  he 
(Lincoln)  spoke  with  rather  more  conspicuous  fluency  than  is  usual  for  him,  but 
he  failed  utterly  of  coming  up  to  the  mark." 

It  is  noteworthy  that  while  the  Republicans  from  one  end  of  Illinois  to  the 
other  denounced  the  Chicago  Times'  report  of  Lincoln's  speeches,  Senator 
Douglas  took  occasion  to  address  Mr.  Hitt  and  to  thank  him  for  the  accuracy 
with  which  his  speeches  had  been  reported  for  the  Press  and  Tribune. 


Douglas  and  Lincoln  did  not  travel  together  during  the  campaign  of  1858. 
They  saw  very  little  of  each  other  until  they  met  upon  the  platforms  at  the 
appointed  places.  The  first  debate,  at  Ottawa,  was  on  the  21st  of  August.  The 
seventh  was  at  Alton,  on  the  15th  of  October.  The  others  were  scattered  along 
between  these  dates.  The  candidates  had  other  engagements  which  kept  them 
apart.  They  were  moving  nearly  all  of  the  time.  Lincoln  made  over  sixty 
speeches  and  Douglas  made  even  more.  The  newspapers  were  well  satisfied  to 
give  the  verbatim  reports  of  the  joint  debates.  That  was  enterprise  enough  for 
those  days.  The  newspapers  did  not  attempt  to  give  full  reports  of  more  than 
two  or  three  of  the  other  speeches. 

The  way  in  which  the  reporting  and  the  publishing  of  the  debates  was  done 
was  very  different  from  the  methods  of  today.  Two  stenographers  did  the  actual 
reporting — Mr.  Hitt  for  the  Republicans  and  Mr.  Sheridan  for  the  Democrats, 
Mr.  Lincoln  being  taken  for  the  Times  by  a  third  stenographer,  an  Englishman. 
The  wires  were  not  used.  An  attempt  to  telegraph  one  of  those  joint  debates 
would  have  paralyzed  the  telegraph  company  of  that  period,  and  would  have 
bankrupted  the  newspaper.  As  soon  as  a  debate  was  finished  the  reporters  took 
the  first  train  they  could  get  and  traveled  to  Chicago.  En  route,  and  after  their 
arrival,  they  wrote  out  the  speeches,  which  were  published  the  second  day  after 
the  debate  took  place.  The  reports  appeared  simultaneously.  Each  paper  seemed 
to  be  satisfied  not  to  be  behind  the  other.  No  heroic  effort  was  made  by  one  to 
beat  the  other.  But  to  accomplish  publication  by  the  second  day  after  the  debate  was 
a  feat  which  strained  the  resources  of  the  two  offices.  On  more  than  one  of  the 
seven  occasions  the  newspapers  contained  apologies  to  their  readers  for  being 
late  in  the  morning  because  of  the  extra  effort  to  get  in  the  Lincoln  and  Douglas 
speeches  in  full. 


One  particularly  smart  thing  was  done  in  connection  with  the  Quincy  debate. 
A  train  for  Chicago  departed  while  the  speaking  was  in  progress.  The  assistant 
of  Mr.  Hitt,  a  bright  young  man,  picked  up  the  notebook  containing  the  report 
up  to  a  few  minutes  before  train  time,  ran  to  the  train  and  started  for  Chicago. 


The  Lincoln  Scrapbooks  55 

Mr.  Hitt  followed  with  the  remainder  of  the  notes  on  the  next  train  after  the 
debate  closed.  When  he  reached  Chicago  he  found  that  his  assistant  had 
transcribed  the  greater  part  of  the  earlier  portion  of  the  debate  and  the  matter 
was  already  in  type.  It  several  times  happened  that  Mr.  Hitt  did  not  see  consider- 
able portions  of  the  notes  after  taking  them  until  the  matter  appeared  in  the 
paper;  the  transcribing  was  done  by  the  assistant,  and  the  copy  was  rushed  to  the 
printers.  The  charge  was  made  by  the  Democrats  that  "Mr.  Judd,  Judge  Logan, 
Judge  Davis,  or  some  one  else  of  great  and  conceded  abilities,"  went  over  Lin- 
coln's speeches  and  fixed  them  up  before  publication.  It  is  answered  by  the  story 
of  the  way  in  which  the  reporting  and  publishing  was  done.  So  also  is  answered 
the  Republican  accusation  that  Douglas  had  access  to  the  transcribed  notes  of 
Lincoln's  speeches  and  mutilated  them  before  they  appeared  in  the  Democratic 
paper.  There  was  no  time  for  revision  or  for  putting  up  jobs  with  the  manu- 
script by  the  principals  in  the  debates.  The  misrepresentation  of  Lincoln  in  the 
Times  was  in  accordance  with  the  purpose  to  make  him  appear  ignorant  and 
uncouth  in  language  beside  Douglas.  Among  the  reporters  it  was  well  under- 
stood that  the  report  of  Lincoln  for  the  Times  was  to  be  done  in  a  slovenly 
manner,  to  carry  out  the  Democratic  estimate  of  Lincoln.  Sheridan,  who  reported 
Douglas  for  the  Times,  did  not  take  Lincoln.  He  was  above  lending  himself  to 
such  a  dishonorable  practice.  He  frequently  talked  privately  about  this  treat- 
ment of  Lincoln,  but  did  not  go  further  than  to  express  his  confidential  opinion 
of  it. 


The  whole  three  hours'  debate  ran  between  six  and  eight  columns — long, 
closely  printed  columns — of  the  four-page  sheets  of  those  days.  There  was 
another  striking  difference  between  the  two  orators,  and  it  was  a  difference  which 
impressed  itself  upon  the  reporters.  Douglas  had  one  great  finished  speech.  He 
made  it  seven  times.  Of  course,  he  varied  somewhat  in  his  introductions  and  in 
his  specific  replies  to  Lincoln's  points.  But  his  argument  in  defense  of  his  general 
position  on  the  slavery  question  was  much  the  same  each  time.  There  were 
whole  paragraphs  which  he  repeated  each  time.  Lincoln  made  seven  speeches, 
like  so  many  chapters  in  a  book,  or  distinct  divisions  of  an  argument.  He  did 
not  repeat  himself.  Douglas'  speech  was  a  carefully  prepared  effort.  He  ignored 
interruptions.  Lincoln  spoke  extemporaneously,  having  only  the  outline  of  his 
argument  in  mind,  answering  suggestions  from  the  audience  and  replying  to 
every  new  point  advanced  by  Douglas. 

The  stenographers  soon  discovered  that  the  senator  was  repeating  himself 
largely.  Mr.  Hitt  carried  with  him  copies  of  previous  speeches,  and  when  he 
came  to  these  repetitions  he  cut  them  out  and  pasted  them  in  his  report,  thereby 
saving  himself  much  work  of  transcribing.  Sheridan,  looking  on  at  this  saving 
of  labor  by  means  of  a  convenient  bottle  of  mucilage,  had  his  joke  on  more  than 
one  occasion.  "Hitt,"  he  was  wont  to  say,  "mucilates  Douglas  for  the  Press  and 
Tribune,  while  (mentioning  the  name  of  the  English  stenographer)  mutilates 
Lincoln  for  the  Times." 


The  joint  debate  which  gave  Lincoln  the  most  satisfaction  was  the  second — 
the  one  at  Freeport.  There  he  took  up  the  seven  questions  Douglas  had  pro- 
pounded at  Ottawa,  and  answered  them  one  by  one.  When  he  had  done  so  he 
said  he  would  now  put  certain  questions  to  Senator  Douglas.  To  make  the 
questions  more  impressive  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  single  slip  of  paper  and  read 


56  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

the  four  questions  slowly.  The  purpose  of  Lincoln's  questions  was  to  make 
Douglas  follow  his  great  and  fascinating  doctrine  of  popular  sovereignty  to  its 
logical  conclusion,  or  else  confess  himself  a  demagogue.  Three  of  the  questions 
led  up  to  the  one  which  was  the  crucial  test,  in  this  form: 

"Can  the  people  of  a  territory  of  the  United  States  in  any  lawful  way,  against 
the  wishes  of  any  citizen  of  the  United  States,  exclude  slavery  from  its  limits 
prior  to  the  formation  of  a  state  constitution?" 

If  Douglas  said  "Yes"  to  this  he  parted  company  with  the  South,  which  was 
insisting  on  the  right,  according  to  the  Dred  Scott  decision,  to  take  slaves  into 
the  territories  prior  to  the  formation  of  a  constitution.  If  Douglas  said  "No"  he 
confessed  that  the  great  political  dogma  on  which  he  had  a  personal  patent — 
popular  sovereignty,  alias  squatter  sovereignty — was  a  delusion. 

Douglas,  when  his  turn  came  to  speak,  took  up  the  slip  of  paper,  Lincoln 
having  laid  it  down  before  him  where  he  could  not  but  take  notice  of  it.  He  took 
it  up,  read  the  questions  one  by  one  and  answered  them.  When  he  came  to  the 
all-important  question  he  read  it  and  threw  down  the  slip  of  paper  as  if  he  was 
disposing  of  a  most  trifling  matter.  He  was  a  great  actor.  He  could  simulate 
passion;  he  could  assume  wild  rage  and  defiance.  He  would  shake  his  head  with 
its  mass  of  hair  like  a  wild  bull,  and  his  admirers  would  cheer  and  cheer.  But  it 
was  all  acting.  Douglas  was  a  veteran  of  debate.  On  this  occasion,  when  he  read 
the  question  on  which  everything  turned,  he  treated  it  as  trifling,  and  after  casting 
it  aside,  he  said: 

"I  answer,  emphatically,  as  Mr.  Lincoln  has  heard  me  answer  a  hundred 
times,  from  every  stump  in  Illinois,  that  in  my  opinion  the  people  of  a  territory 
can,  by  lawful  means,  exclude  slavery  from  their  limits  prior  to  the  formation 
of  a  state  constitution." 

And  a  little  further  on  he  assumed  to  explain  that  the  people  of  a  territory 
could  control  slavery,  "because  it  cannot  exist  unless  by  police  regulations.  Those 
regulations  can  only  be  established  by  the  local  legislature,  and  if  the  people 
are  opposed  to  slavery  they  will  elect  representatives  to  that  body  who  will,  by 
unfriendly  legislation,  effectually  prevent  the  introduction  of  it  into  their  midst." 


The  full  realization  of  what  Douglas  had  done  did  not  come  to  most  of  those 
who  listened  to  him  until  afterward.  His  manner  was  well  calculated' to  deceive. 
He  answered  this  question  on  which  his  future  turned  as  if  it  was  of  the  slightest 
consequence.  Lincoln  undoubtedly  knew  what-  he  was  about,  but  the  stories 
which  have  been  circulated  in  later  years  concerning  the  four  questions  are  for 
the  most  part  apocryphal.  Lincoln  prepared  the  questions.  He  based  them  on  a 
report  of  a  speech  Douglas  had  made  a  few  days  before  at  Bloomington.  A 
copy  of  the  Bloomington  speech  was  before  him,  and  after  examining  it  carefully 
he  wrote  the  questions,  believing  that  Douglas  must  answer  just  as  he  did.  The 
questions  were  no  surprise  to  Douglas.  They  simply  forced  him  to  emphasize 
what  he  had  said  to  his  followers  at  Bloomington.  They  drew  him  out,  how- 
ever, very  clearly  on  an  occasion  when  all  he  said  was  sure  to  get  into  print, 
under  the  fierce  light  of  the  debates,  and  to  reach  the  whole  country.  The  New 
York  Tribune  and  other  Eastern  papers  were  reprinting  the  debates  in  full  or 
nearly  so.  Some  of  Lincoln's  friends  claimed  to  have  advised  him  strongly  not 
to  present  the  questions,  telling  him  that  Douglas  was  sure  to  stick  to  his 
popular  sovereignty  idea  and  that,  if  he  did,  he  would  certainly  be  elected  senator. 
But  Lincoln  went  ahead.  Years  afterward,  in  the  light  of  events  which  followed, 


The  Lincoln  Scrapbooks  57 

some  of  these  friends  concluded  that  Lincoln  had  the  gift  of  foreknowledge  and, 
in  1858,  was  building  for  1860  and  the  presidency.  A  story  which  fits  in  here  may 
be  told.  The  evening  after  the  debate  closed  the  two  champions  were  accom- 
panied by  their  respective  friends  to  the  depot  to  take  the  train.  It  was  not  long 
after  the  railroad  had  reached  Freeport.  Douglas  was  surrounded  by  a  throng 
of  enthusiastic  and  noisy  admirers.  Lincoln,  as  was  usually  the  case,  had  with 
him  a  smaller  and  quieter  escort.  Lincoln  had  little  to  say.  While  waiting  for 
the  train  he  walked  to  the  end  of  the  platform  and  stood  looking  seriously  toward 
the  west  where  the  sun  had  just  set.  Some  one  asked  him: 

"Mr.  Lincoln,  how  are  you  satisfied  with  the  debate  so  far?" 

"Douglas  may  have  beaten  me  to-day  for  the  Senate,"  was  the  reply,  "but  I 
have  stopped  him  from  being  president." 

This  story  may  be  true.  The  fact  is,  however,  it  did  not  begin  to  have 
circulation  until  four  years  after  the  Freeport  meeting,  when  Lincoln  was  in  the 
White  House  and  the  popular  demand  for  Lincoln  stories  had  developed. 

At  the  third  debate,  held  at  Jonesboro,  a  strongly  Democratic  locality,  where 
only  about  2000  people  were  present,  Lincoln  pressed  Douglas  hard  on  the 
answer  to  the  Freeport  questions.  He  insisted  that  Douglas  must  explain  how  in 
the  light  of  the  Dred  Scott  decision  the  people  of  a  territory  could  control  the 
introduction  of  slavery.  Douglas'  reply  was  ingenious,  but  it  was  not  satisfactory. 
It  turned  the  South  against  him.  Six  weeks  afterwards  Douglas  was  burned  in 
effigy  at  Norfolk,  Va. 


President  McKinley's  Lincoln  Story 

Washington  is  an  interesting  center  for  news  and  gossip,  but  it  is  the  worst 
place  in  the  country  for  the  formation  of  judgment  on  public  sentiment.  It  is 
historically  uncertain  in  that  rescpect.  A  Washington  correspondent  wrote  to 
his  editor  that  public  sentiment  in  Washington  indicated  something.  The  editor 
wrote  back  that  public  sentiment  in  Washington  meant  nothing.  President 
McKinley  in  crises  never  made  the  mistake  of  some  of  his  predecessors, — that 
sentiment  in  Washington  was  a  safe  guide  as  to  conditions  of  sentiment  in  the 
country  at  large.  He,  personally,  went  through  many  letters  that  came  to  the 
White  House.  He  did  more  of  this  than  most  presidents  have  done.  He  had  a 
selected  list  of  newspapers  representing  all  parts  of  the  country  and  all  shades 
of  politics.  He  read  these,  not  trusting  to  any  private  secretary  to  cull  for  him. 
One  day  a  public  man  called  at  the  White  House  and  undertook  to  tell  Mr. 
McKinley  what  the  sentiment  in  Washington  was  upon  a  pending  question. 
Mr.  McKinley  checked  the  visitor  and  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  heard  the  story 
of  President  Lincoln  and  Leonard  Swett.  Mr.  Swett  had  come  to  Washington 
at  a  critical  period  and  called  at  the  White  House.  President  Lincoln  asked 
him  when  he  had  arrived  in  the  capital.  Swett  replied  in  a  general  way.  Mr. 
Lincoln  repeated  the  inquiry  in  such  form  as  to  bring  from  Mr.  Swett  the 
information  that  he  had  come  in  by  the  latest  train,  about  an  hour  previous. 
"Oh!"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  "all  right.  How  are  things?  If  you  had  been  in  Washington 
all  day,  I  wouldn't  ask  you.  You  would  have  heard  so  much  your  opinion  wouldn't 
be  worth  anything." 

"The  national  capital,  or  a  state  capital,  is  a  bad  place  to  form  proper 
estimates  of  public  sentiment.  You  can  hear  too  much,"  was  President 
McKinley's  moral  drawn  from  this  Lincoln  story. 


58  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

How  He  Studied  German 

Of  Lincoln  getting  up  early  and  using  the  circuit  clerk's  office  for  study  of 
the  German  language,  Luman  Burr  had  a  definite  recollection.  Mr.  Burr  was  the 
deputy  clerk  of  McLean  County,  of  which  Bloomington  is  the  seat.  His  service 
extended  from  1857  to  1862.  During  the  early  part  of  it  Mr.  Burr  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"I  was  only  a  boy  of  20  years,  and  just  from  the  East,"  he  said.  "As  the 
deputy  clerk,  I  came  to  know  Mr.  Lincoln,  but  not  in  an  intimate  way.  I  came 
to  know  him  so  well,  however,  that  the  caricature  of  him  in  a  book  called  'The 
Crisis,'  by  a  man  named  Churchill,  fills  me  with  wrath. 

"In  the  old  Courthouse  at  Bloomington,"  continued  Mr.  Burr,  "Judge  Davis 
had  his  desk  in  the  same  office  with  William  McCullough,  the  clerk  of  the  Circuit 
Court.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  great  friend  of  both  of  them.  There  was  a  large, 
round  table  in  the  clerk's  office,  and  in  the  winter  time  there  was  a  good  fire 
in  a  big  box  stove.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  a  habit  of  coming  there  mornings  before 
court  to  read  or  study.  Other  lawyers  would  drop  in.  Leonard  Swett,  William 
H.  Hanna,  Asahel  Gridley,  John  M.  Scott,  Ward  H.  Lamon  and  others  were 
often  there.  The  conversation  of  such  men  to  a  young  man  just  from  a  New 
England  farm  was  a  revelation.  I  have  heard  Mr.  Lincoln  talk,  tell  stories,  try 
lawsuits  and  lecture.  One  morning,  I  recollect  in  particular,  he  was  in  the 
clerk's  office  studying  German.  He  looked  up  and  said:  'Here  is  a  curious  thing: 
the  Germans  have  no  word  for  thimble;  they  call  it  a  finger  hat  (fingerhut). 
And  they  have  no  word  for  glove;  they  call  it  a  hand  shoe  (handschuh).  And 
then  came  one  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  inimitable  laughs." 


He  Established  Standard  Gauge 

President  Lincoln,  said  L.  D.  Yager,  the  Alton  (111.)  attorney,  is  to  be  credited 
with  the  establishment  of  what  is  known  as  standard  gauge  in  railroad  construc- 
tion. This  Lincoln  story  is  not  only  interesting  in  itself,  but  it  is  illustrative  of 
the  faculty  for  settling  controversies  which  Mr.  Lincoln  possessed.  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  the  personification  of  fairness.  If  such  a  result  had  been  within  human 
agency,  President  Lincoln  would  have  averted  the  civil  war  by  a  settlement  which 
would  have  preserved  the  Union  and  gradually  abolished  slavery.  Standard 
gauge  is  4  feet  8^2  inches  between  rails.  Many  people  have  wondered  about  that 
half  inch. 

"When  the  Union  Pacific,  the  first  transcontinental  railroad  project,  reached 
the  stage  of  legislation  there  was  necessary,  of  course,  an  enabling  act,"  said 
Mr.  Yager.  "One  branch  of  Congress  insisted  that  the  rails  should  be  4  feet  and 
10  inches  apart.  The  other  body  wanted  a  gauge  of  4  feet  and  7  inches.  On  an 
issue,  apparently  so  trivial,  the  Senate  and  House  took  opposing  sides.  The 
question  was  taken  to  the  White  House  by  interested  parties.  President  Lincoln 
was  asked  to  express  his  opinion  as  to  the  proper  width  for  a  transcontinental 
railroad  track.  He  took  \y2  inches  from  the  wider  gauge  and  added  it  to  the 
narrower  gauge,  making  the  width  4  feet  8y2  inches.  In  other  words,  he  split  the 
difference.  The  compromise  was  accepted  by  the  law-makers  and  standard  gauge 
was  fixed  thereby.  Other  railroads  conformed  to  this  government  gauge,  one 
after  another,  until  it  became  the  almost  universal  width  between  rails." 


The  Bowl  of  Custard 

When  Lincoln  "rode  the  circuit"  Bloomington  was  a  literary  and  social 
center.  Springfield  might  claim  political  pre-eminence,  as  the  state  capital,  but 
Bloomington  performed  the  rites  of  hospitality  in  a  way  which  charmed  her 
guests.  The  visiting  lawyers  were  entertained  during  court  weeks.  Little  parties 
were  given  in  their  honor.  And  Lincoln  was  the  life  of  these  social  gatherings. 

"I  was  acquainted  with  Mr.  Lincoln  from  1845  to  his  election  as  president," 
said  Mrs.  Judith  A.  Bradner,  when  she  was  95  years  old.  "I  am  happy  to  say 
that  I  have  entertained  him  in  my  house  often  when  our  city  was  but  a  village. 
The  lawyers  would  come  to  Bloomington  twice  a  year  to  attend  court  for  two 
weeks.  During  court  weeks  here  five  of  us  ladies  would  entertain  the  lawyers 
with  parties.  All  of  them  seemed  to  enjoy  these  gatherings.  When  the  two 
weeks  of  court  were  up,  Mr.  Lincoln  would  say  regretfully,  'Well,  our  parties 
are  through  until  fall.'  The  last  time  Mr.  Lincoln  visited  us  he  was  in  fine 
spirits.  The  ceilings  in  our  house  were  not  as  high  as  they  are  nowadays.  Mr. 
Lincoln  struck  his  head  against  the  chandelier  and  then  apologized,  saying,  'We 
haven't  got  these  things  at  our  house.'  At  another  time  he  remarked,  'Ladies, 
excuse  me,  but  this  is  the  nicest  party  we  have  had,  and  we  did  not  have  any 
custard,  either.' 

The  reference  to  the  custard  Mrs.  Bradner  explained.  One  of  the  stopping 
places  on  the  circuit  was  Barnett's  tavern  at  Clinton. 

"Mrs.  Barnett,"  Mrs.  Bradner  said,  "always  made  a  large  bowl  of  custard 
for  the  visiting  lawyers.  One  time  when  the  lawyers  arrived  at  Barnett's  and 
came  to  the  table  Mr.  Lincoln  pointed  to  the  usual  bowl  of  custard  and  said  to 
Judge  Davis.  'Did  you  ever  see  anything  keep  like  that  custard?  It  looks  just 
as  it  did  when  we  left  it  last  fall.'  The  old  lady  made  no  more  custard  for  the 
lawyers." 

Neither  card  playing  nor  dancing  entered  into  the  social  entertainments 
which  the  ladies  of  Bloomington  provided  for  the  lawyers  during  court  week,  as 
Mrs.  Bradner  remembers.  There  was  conversation  and  Mr.  Lincoln  was  the 
leading  personality  in  the  gathering.  Occasionally  there  was  singing.  Mrs. 
Bradner  remembers  that  Mrs.  David  Davis  stood  by  a  chair  and  sang  some  of  the 
songs  of  that  day.  The  words  of  one  of  these  songs  of  the  fifties  Mrs.  Bradner 
repeated  without  any  hesitation: 

So  Miss  Myrtle  is  going  to  marry? 

What  a  number  of  hearts  she  will  break! 
There's  Tom  Brown,  Lord  George  and  Sir  Harry, 

All  dying  of  love  for  her  sake. 
'Tis  the  match  we  all  must  approve, 

Let  the  gossips  say  what  they  can, 
For  she's  really  a  charming  woman, 

And  he's  a  most  fortunate  man. 
Chorus — 'Tis  a  match  that  we  all  must  approve, 

Let  the  gossips  say  what  they  can, 
Yes,  she's  really  a  charming  woman, 
And  he's  a  most  fortunate  man. 


60  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

She's  studied  both  Latin  and  Greek, 

And  I'm  told  that  she  solved  a  problem 
In  Euclid  before  she  could  speak. 

And  the  old  lady  spoke  then; 
"Had  she  been  but  a  daughter  of  mine 

I'd  taught  her  to  knit  and  to  sew, 
But  her  mother,  a  charming  woman, 

Couldn't  think  of  such  trifles,  you  know." 
Chorus — "Tis  a  match  that  we  all  must  approve,  etc. 


"Mr.  Lincoln  never  seemed  to  me  to  look  awkward  or  to  be  careless  about 
his  appearance  but  once,  that  I  can  remember,"  Mrs.  Bradner  said.  "Mr.  Douglas 
came  to  Bloomington  to  make  a  speech  and  I  went  to  hear  him.  As  we  got 
near  to  the  crowd  I  saw  a  man  sitting  on  a  log,  stooping  over  with  his  hat  on 
the  ground  in  front  of  him.  I  didn't  recognized  the  man,  but  thought  to  myself 
he  looked  rather  careless.  Once  in  a  while  the  man  would  reach  down,  pick  up 
some  paper,  write  on  it,  and  throw  it  in  his  hat.  When  I  came  nearer  I  saw  it 
was  Mr.  Lincoln.  I  realized  then  that  he  was  sitting  back  there  taking  notes  of 
what  Mr.  Douglas  was  saying. 

"The  time  that  Mr.  Lincoln  attended  the  party  at  our  house  and  struck  his 
head  against  the  chandelier,  he  passed  it  off  so  nicely  it  did  not  seem  awkward- 
ness on  his  part.  In  fact,  he  hit  the  chandelier  twice  with  his  head.  The  second 
time  he  said,  'Well,  that  was  an  awkward  piece  of  business.  You  know  we 
haven't  got  those  things  at  our  house.' 

"Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  kindly,  patient  man,"  said  Mrs.  Bradner.  "I  visited  in 
Springfield  and  knew  of  his  home  life.  Mrs.  Capt.  Bradford  was  a  neighbor  of 
the  Lincolns.  She  told  me  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  would  put  the  baby  in  the  carriage 
and  that  Mr.  Lincoln  would  wheel  it  up  and  down  the  street  after  the  other  men 
had  gone  down  to  the  business  of  their  offices.  Mrs.  Bradford  said  to  Mr. 
Lincoln  one  day,  'I  think  that  is  pretty  business  for  you  to  be  engaged  in,  when 
you  ought  to  be  down  to  your  law  office.'  Mr.  Lincoln  looked  at  her  and  said 
slowly,  'I  promised.'  And  then  he  went  on  with  the  baby  carriage." 

"Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  so  careless  about  how  his  clothes  looked  as  some  people 
say,"  continued  Mrs.  Bradner.  "I  recollect  one  afternoon  he  was  called  on  to  go 
to  tea  at  somebody's  house  in  Tremont.  He  had  been  lying  on  the  grass  read- 
ing. He  said  he  couldn't  go  and  as  a  reason  showed  a  hole  in  the  elbow  of  his 
coat.  The  excuse  wasn't  accepted.  Mr.  Lincoln  yielded  and  went  to  the  tea,  but 
he  sat  through  it  with  one  hand  over  that  hole  in  the  elbow." 

Mrs.  Bradner  told  of  a  visit  she  made  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  at  their 
Springfield  home. 

"At  the  time  Mr.  Lincoln  was  elected,"  she  said,  "I  was  in  Springfield  with 
my  sister,  Mrs.  Albert  Jones.  We  went  to  the  Lincolns  the  next  day  to  offer 
our  congratulations.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  in  fine  spirits.  He  told  us  he  thought 
he  had  a  good  joke  on  his  wife.  Pointing  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  he  said,  'She  locked 
me  out.'  Mrs.  Lincoln  said  to  him:  'Don't  ever  tell  that  again.'  But  Mr.  Lin- 
coln laughed  and  went  on  with  the  story.  He  said  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  said  when 
he  went  downtown  in  the  evening  to  hear  the  returns  that  if  he  wasn't  at  home 
by  10  o'clock  she  would  lock  him  out.  And  she  did  so.  But,  Mr.  Lincoln  said 
that  when  she  heard  the  music  coming  to  serenade  them  she  turned  the  key  in 
a  hurry." 


Albert  Blair's  Three  Vivid  Impressions 

Three  vivid  impressions  Albert  Blair  of  St.  Louis  received  of  Lincoln.  He 
was  a  native  of  Pike  County,  Illinois,  a  strongly  Democratic  section  of  the  state, 
a  section  where  Douglas  was  a  political  idol. 

"The  Senator,"  said  Mr.  Blair,  "opened  his  campaign  in  1858,  early  in  August, 
by  a  speech  at  Pittsfield,  the  county  town.  His  devoted  constituents  were  present 
in  great  numbers,  and  to  my  young  eyes  he  seemed  to  be  the  greatest  personage 
in  the  nation — dignified,  eloquent  and  masterful.  The  idea  that  Abe  Lincoln,  the 
story-telling  rail  splitter,  should  presume  to  meet  him  in  debate  seemed 
ridiculous.  In  October  following  I  was  present  at  Quincy,  111.,  where  a  joint 
debate  between  the  champions  occurred.  I  was  surprised  at  the  very  large 
number  of  Republicans  present,  and  their  enthusiasm.  The  'Little  Giant'  in 
appearance  and  behavior  that  day  disappointed  me.  His  face  was  red,  his  voice 
husky,  and  his  temper  irritable.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  treble-toned,  buoyant  and 
aggressive.  The  manner  in  which  at  times  he  would  tax  "my  friend  Judge 
Douglas,"  with  a  troublesome  question,  or  answer  him  humorously  with  'that 
reminds  me  of  a  story,'  or  with  some  other  form  of  telling  repartee,  all  result- 
ing in  tremendous  laughter  and  applause,  however  it  may  have  affected  Mr. 
Douglas  certainly  worried  me  very  much,  and,  although  I  was  too  young  to 
appreciate  the  arguments  of  the  respective  disputants,  I  went  away  with  an 
improved  opinion  of  the  strength  of  the  Republican  party  and  of  the  capabili- 
ties of  Abraham  Lincoln. 


"In  1859  and  1860  I  was  a  student  at  Phillips-Exeter  Academy,  fitting  for 
Harvard  College.  Robert  Lincoln  was  there  at  the  same  time  as  a  student. 
My  interest  in  politics  was  strong,  and  I  was  still  hoping  that  the  great  Illinois 
Senator  might  gain  the  presidency.  Early  in  1860  Mr.  Lincoln  made  a  trip  to 
New  York  and  New  England.  His  speech  at  Cooper  Institute,  New  York, 
attracted  great  attention,  and  brought  him  prominently  forward  as  a  possible 
nominee  of  the  Republican  party  for  the  presidency.  Naturally,  his  visit  to 
Exeter  to  see  his  son  was  a  notable  event  in  the  annals  of  that  old  academic 
town.  On  Saturday  night  of  his  stay  he  made  a  political  speech  in  the  town 
hall.  The  audience  was  large,  and  composed  of  the  best  people.  Hon.  Amos 
Tuck  presided. 

"By  this  time,  as  an  Illinoisan,  I  was  sensible  with  pride  of  the  increasing 
fame  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  hoped  he  might  make  a  good  impression.  With  one  of 
Exeter's  charming  daughters  I  sat  in  the  front  row  of  seats,  where  I  had  the 
best  opportunity  to  hear  and  observe  the  speaker.  We  could  not  help  noticing 
his  lankness  of  stature,  and  an  occasional  uncouth  posture  or  gesture.  Some  of 
his  Western  sayings  must  have  sounded  very  odd  to  the  precise  easterlings. 
The  attitude  of  the  pro-slavery  leaders  toward  Mr.  Douglas,  he  said,  reminded 
him  of  a  story  of  a  farmer  out  West  who  had  a  troublesome  dog,  and  wished  to 
get  rid  of  him.  One  bitter  cold  night  the  farmer  decided  to  freeze  the  dog  by 
shutting  him  out  in  the  cold;  but  somehow  the  dog  would  always  find  an 
opportunity  to  get  back  within  doors.  Finally  the  farmer,  in  greater  deterina- 
tion,  undertook  personally  to  hold  the  dog  on  the  north  side  of  the  house  until 


62  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

the  poor  creature  should  succumb.  But  the  dog  was  the  better  stayer  of  the  two, 
and  the  farmer  concluded  to  adjourn  the  killing  until  a  more  favorable  season. 

"During  his  speech  Mr.  Lincoln  would  occasionally  put  a  question  to  the 
audience  and  pause  for  a  reply.  In  one  instance  he  looked  about  from  side  to 
side  with  an  eager,  expectant  look;  no  reply  coming,  he  good  humoredly  said, 
'You  people  here  don't  jaw  back  at  a  fellow  as  they  do  out  West.' 

"These  peculiarities  did  not  detract  from  the  general  effect.  Above  the 
grotesque  and  the  humorous  a  lofty  feeling  was  dominant.  Whether  in  boldly 
meeting  the  imperious  legalism  of  the  South,  or  in  laying  bare  the  equivocations 
of  the  Douglas  doctrine,  or  in  discussing  generally  the  great  issues  before  the 
nation,  there  was  ever  the  clear,  earnest  call  to  reason  in  behalf  of  human  rights 
which  did  not  fail  to  impress  every  hearer. 


"The  month  of  February,  1865,  shortly  before  the  close  of  the  war,  and  the 
death  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  spent  in  Washington.  On  one  occasion  I  attended  a 
reception  at  the  White  House.  It  was  a  general  reception,  open  to  everybody. 
The  procession  of  visitors  included  soldiers  and  civilians  of  every  rank.  Mr. 
Lincoln  was  stationed  in  one  of  the  smaller  rooms,  and  was  attended  by  Judge 
David  Davis.  In  the  same  room  were  a  number  of  handsomely  dressed  ladies, 
including  Mrs.  Lincoln.  The  visitor  was  directed  by  officers  first  to  enter  the 
ante-room,  where  he  gave  his  name  to  a  lieutenant,  and  was  by  the  lieutenant 
conducted  and  introduced  to  Judge  Davis,  and  by  Judge  Davis  to  the  president. 
A  handshake  and  a  word  was  all  that  could  be  practically  extended,  and  the  visitor 
was  expected  to  move  along  to  the  larger  East  room.  After  my  presentation 
and  handshake  I,  in  company  with  a  friend,  who  was  familiar  with  the  etiquette 
of  the  White  House,  stepped  aside  from  the  line  of  exit  and  took  my  station  for  a  few 
moments  near  the  group  of  ladies,  in  order  that  I  might  have  an  opportunity  to 
observe  the  president.  I  stood  near  enough  to  hear  Mr.  Lincoln  in  conversation 
with  Judge  Davis,  which  necessarily  was  quite  desultory.  The  interruptions 
were  incessant.  Now  it  was  'How  do  you  do,  Colonel?'  or  'My  brave  boy.'  'I 
am  glad  to  see  you,'  or  some  other  word  of  cordial  recognition.  There  was  no 
official  starchiness  or  affectation.  I  was,  in  fact,  impressed  with  the  lack  of 
conventional  tone  and  bearing.  I  heard  Mr.  Lincoln,  in  a  most  unaffected  way, 
and  in  a  tone,  if  not  loud,  certainly  not  confined  to  the  judge's  hearing,  exclaim  to 
Judge  Davis,  'Judge,  I  never  knew  until  the  other  day  how  to  spell  the  word 
'maintenance.' '  Then  occurred  a  handshake,  or  howdy  do  with  some  visitor.  'I 
always  thought  it  was  'm-a-i-n,  main,  t-a-i-n,  tain,  a-n-c-e,  ance — maintainance,' 
but  I  find  that  it  is  'm-a-i-n,  main,  t-e  te,  n-a-n-c-e,  nance — maintenance.' '  This 
was  a  spectacle!  The  President  of  a  great  nation  at  a  formal  reception,  sur- 
rounded by  many  eminent  people,  statesmen,  ministers,  scholars,  critics  and  ultra- 
fashionable  people — by  all  sorts — who  honestly  and  unconcernedly,  in  the  most 
unconventional  way,  speaks  before  all  as  it  were,  of  a  personal  thing  illustrative 
of  his  own  deficiency. 

"Whether  on  the  platform  in  a  Western  town,  or  before  a  cultivated  audience 
in  New  England,  or  at  the  very  seat  of  authority  of  a  great  nation,  he  was  ever 
the  same,  unaffectedly  honest  and  open  to  every  observer." 


The  Friend  of  the  Boys 

When  William  B.  Thompson  of  the  St.  Louis  bar  was  a  boy  he  went  fishing 
with  Abraham  Lincoln.  That  was  before  Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  candidate  for 
president;  earlier  even  than  the  historic  Lincoln-Douglas  debates.  It  was  when 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  practicing  law  in  Springfield  and  wanted  a  day  off.  Then  he 
would  put  the  neighbors'  boys  into  the  family  carryall,  as  many  as  could  be 
crowded  in,  and  drive  away  to  the  banks  of  the  Sangamon.  The  Lincoln  whom 
William  B.  Thompson  remembered  best  was  not  the  lawyer,  the  orator,  the 
candidate,  the  president,  but  the  friend  and  associate  of  every  boy  on  the  street 
where  he  lived  in  Springfield. 

"I  lived  half  a  block  from  Mr.  Lincoln's,"  said  Mr.  Thompson,  "and  visited 
at  the  house,  but  more  frequently  I  met  Mr.  Lincoln  on  the  street  as  I  went  to 
and  from  school.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  an  observant  man  on  the  street;  in  fact, 
he  hardly  ever  saw  us  unless  we  spoke  to  him.  He  walked  along  with  his  hands 
behind  him,  gazing  upward  and  noticing  nobody.  But  it  was  usual  for  all  of 
the  boys  in  the  neighborhood  to  speak  to  him  as  we  met  him.  He  had  endeared 
himself  to  all  of  us  by  reason  of  the  interest  he  took  in  us.  When  one  of  us 
spoke  to  him  as  he  was  walking  along  in  his  absorbed  manner  he  would  stop 
and  acknowledge  the  greeting  pleasantly.  If  the  boy  was  small  Mr.  Lincoln 
would  often  take  him  up  in  his  arms  and  talk  to  him.  If  the  boy  was  larger  Mr. 
Lincoln  would  shake  hands  and  talk  with  him.  It  he  didn't  recall  the  face  he 
would  ask  the  name,  and  if  he  recognized  it  he  would  say,  'Oh,  yes;  I  remember 
you.'  If  the  boy  was  a  comparative  stranger  Mr.  Lincoln  would  treat  him  so 
pleasantly  that  the  boy  always  wanted  to  speak  to  Mr.  Lincoln  after  that  when- 
ever he  met  him. 

"But  besides  showing  interest  in  us,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  exceedingly  popular 
with  the  boys  in  the  neighborhood  because  of  the  fishing  trips  of  the  Sangamon 
river  he  took  with  us.  He  owned  a  bay  horse,  which  was  called  a  'shaved-tail' 
horse.  He  had  a  'calash,'  as  the  roomy  vehicle  was  known.  Into  the  calash  Mr. 
Lincoln  would  put  all  of  the  boys  of  the  neighborhood  who  could  crowd  in,  and 
drive  out  to  the  Sangamon.  We  carried  our  lunches  and  spent  the  whole  day. 
After  we  were  pretty  well  tired  tramping  about  we  spread  out  the  lunches.  Mr. 
Lincoln  sat  down  with  us.  When  we  had  eaten  he  told  us  stories  and  enter- 
tained us  with  his  funny  comments.  No  boy  who  had  accompanied  Mr.  Lincoln 
on  one  of  these  fishing  trips  willingly  missed  another.  Johnny  Spriggs  was  one 
of  those  boys.  He  lived  in  our  block.  His  mother  was  a  widow.  John  Spriggs 
was  hardly  grown  when  four  or  five  years  afterward  he  went  into  the  Union 
Army.  He  became  an  officer  of  distinction.  For  a  long  time  he  was  connected 
with  the  Rice-Stix  dry  goods  house  in  St.  Louis.  As  long  as  he  lived  John 
Spriggs  remembered  and  told  those  stories  he  heard  from  Lincoln  on  our  fish- 
ing trips.  One  of  the  neighbors  was  Jesse  K.  Du  Bois,  who  had  two  boys,  one 
of  whom  became  a  United  States  senator  from  Idaho.  John  G.  Ives  had  three 
sons.  Mr.  Lincoln's  boys  were  Robert  and  Tad.  The  neighborhood  was  well 
built  up  and  nearly  every  family  had  boys.  We  went  to  a  school  which  was 
called  "the  college."  One  of  the  principal  teachers  was  Dr.  Reynolds,  father 
of  Judge  George  D.  Reynolds  of  St.  Louis,  of  the  St.  Louis  Court  of  Appeals. 
George  attended  the  school.  Boys  came  from  the  counties  around  Springfield 
to  prepare  for  college." 


64  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

"A  case  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  in  court  at  Springfield  about  1857  won  him 
great  admiration  from  the  boys,"  Mr.  Thompson  recalled.  "Quinn  Harrison  was 
charged  with  murder.  Lincoln  defended  him.  Harrison  and  Crafton,  who  was 
killed,  were  young  fellows.  They  lived  at  Pleasant  Plains,  in  Sangamon  County. 
Harrison  was  a  grandson  of  Peter  Cartwright,  the  famous  pioneer  preacher  and 
circuit  rider.  Crafton  was  killed  as  the  result  of  a  quarrel.  The  feeling  was  quite 
strong  between  the  friends  of  the  two  young  men.  Harrison  was  prosecuted  by 
some  of  the  ablest  talent  at  the  Springfield  bar.  My  recollection  is  that  James 
A.  Matheney,  who  was  considered  one  of  the  strongest  lawyers  there  at  the  time, 
was  the  prosecuting  attorney.  Mr.  Lincoln  saved  Quinn  Harrison,  but  it  was  a 
very  hard  fight.  We  boys  followed  it  throughout.  All  of  us  who  were  able 
climbed  to  the  windows.  The  others  hung  around  the  doors  of  the  old  court- 
house. We  listened  with  most  careful  attention  to  everything  Lincoln  said.  His 
argument  to  the  jury  for  Quinn  Harrison  made  a  lasting  impression  upon  us. 
At  that  time  Lincoln  had  not  become  famous  as  a  debater.  Harrison  was 
acquitted.  We  boys  agreed  that  Lincoln's  speech  and  earnest  manner  did  it, 
rather  than  the  evidence.  

"I  think,  perhaps,  the  Springfield  boys  recognized  the  power  of  Lincoln's 
eloquence  earlier  than  did  some  of  their  elders,"  continued  Mr.  Thompson, 
thoughtfully.  "Springfield  in  that  day  had  a  number  of  lawyers  who  had  won 
fame  at  the  bar.  Milton  Hay,  the  brother  of  John  Hay,  had  come  up  from 
Belleville  with  a  great  reputation  as  a  lawyer.  John  A.  McClernand  was  known 
in  all  that  part  of  Illinois  as  the  'Grecian  orator'  because  of  the  many  quotations 
from  the  classics  he  put  into  his  speeches.  McClernand  was  called  the  most 
scholarly  man  at  the  Springfield  bar. 

"It  was  said  that  he  had  studied  with  the  view  of  entering  the  priesthood, 
but  had  taken  up  the  law  instead.  Logan,  Stuart,  Edwards,  Matheney  and  Conk- 
ling  were  considered  eminent  lawyers.  Some  of  .them  stood  so  high  that  they 
did  not  have  to  go  'on  the  circuit.'  Business  came  to  them  in  Springfield.  But 
with  the  acquittal  of  Quinn  Harrison  all  of  the  boys  agreed  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
their  ideal.  We  took  every  opportunity  to  hear  Lincoln  speak.  The  campaign  of 
1858  was  notable  for  the  number  of  boys  who  attended  whenever  Lincoln  spoke. 
We  talked  politics.  We  knew  all  about  the  'Kansas-Nebraska  bill.'  Stephen 
A.  Douglas  was  a  favorite  orator  when  the  campaign  opened.  He  was  very 
widely  known.  He  had  practised  law  in  Jacksonville,  Beardstown  and  Spring- 
field and  was  personally  acquainted  with  every  man  of  prominence.  Lincoln 
was  not  so  well  known.  Some  of  the  politicians  belittled  Lincoln.  They  did  not  think 
he  was  up  to  the  standard  of  Douglas,  who  had  been  quite  a  figure  in  the  Senate.  But 
the  Springfield  boys  followed  the  debate  with  great  confidence  in  Mr.  Lincoln. 
They  never  forgot  the  Quinn  Harrison  speech.  It  wasn't  long  after  the  speak- 
ing opened  in  the  campaign  before  public  sentiment  as  to  the  relative  strength 
of  Lincoln  and  Douglas  in  debate  began  to  change.  The  older  people  began  to 
see  Lincoln  in  the  estimate  the  boys  had  put  upon  him.  While  Lincoln  did  not 
succeed  in  winning  the  senatorship  from  Douglas,  the  feeling  grew  that  his 
position  was  the  stronger.  Lincoln's  speeches  in  that  campaign  of  1858  made  a 
very  strong  impression. 

"The  day  Mr.  Lincoln  left  Springfied  in  1861  to  go  to  Washington  for  the 
inauguration  was  the  last  time  I  saw  him.  All  of  the  boys  were  at  the  station, 
and  the  most  enthusiastic  cheering  came  from  them.  Some  of  the  older  people 
looked  very  serious;  they  were  predicting  that  Mr.  Lincoln  would  not  be  allowed 


The  Friend  of  the  Boys  65 

to  reach  Washington;  that  he  would  be  stopped  if  he  tried  to  pass  through  Mary- 
land. Many  believed  there  would  be  interference.  I  remember  that  I  went  up  to 
John  Hay,  who  was  going  with  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  asked  him  if  he  had  any  doubt 
about  getting  through.  As  we  young  fellows  shouted  our  farewell  to  Mr.  Lin- 
coln that  day  we  felt  as  if  we  were  parting  from  a  personal  friend  to  whom  we 
were  deeply  attached." 


"Mr.  Lincoln  was  liked  by  young  and  old  because  he  liked  both  young  and 
old,"  George  Perrin  Davis  of  Bloomington  said.  He  treasured  an  autograph 
album  in  which  distinguished  men,  who  were  the  guests  or  friends  of  his  father, 
Mr.  Justice  David  Davis,  wrote  their  sentiments  and  names  at  his  youthful 
requests.  Before  Mr.  Lincoln  was  nominated  for  president — indeed,  just  after 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  beaten  for  the  senatorship  by  Mr.  Douglas — Geoge  Perrin 
Davis  selected  him  for  first  place  in  the  autograph  album.  And  Mr.  Lincoln 
wrote: 

"My  young  friend,  George  Perrin  Davis,  has  allowed  me  the  honor  of  being 
the  first  to  write  his  name  in  this  book. 

"A.  LINCOLN. 

"Bloomington,  December  21,  1858." 

Abraham  Lincoln  and  George  Perrin  Davis,  with  a  third  of  a  century 
between  their  ages,  were  friends.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  visitor  at  the  Davis  home 
from  the  earliest  time  that  George  Perrin  Davis  could  remember.  One  year 
George  Perrin  Davis  "rode  the  circuit"  day  after  day,  week  after  week,  the  boy 
companion  of  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"The  eighth  circuit,"  he  said,  "as  established  in  1847,  extended  on  the  north 
from  Woodford  to  the  Indiana  state  line,  south  as  far  as  Shelby  and  the  western 
counties  were  Sangamon,  Logan  and  Tazewell.  It  had  nearly  11,000  square 
miles,  about  one-fifth  of  the  whole  state.  There  were  no  mail  roads  for  many 
years  and  but  few  bridges  over  the  rivers.  Courts  were  held  in  the  various 
counties  twice  a  year,  lasting  from  two  or  three  days  to  a  week.  After  court  had 
adjourned  in  one  county,  the  judge  rode  to  the  next  county  seat,  and  was  followed 
by  the  state's  attorney,  whose  authority  extended  over  the  whole  circuit,  and  by 
some  of  the  lawyers  to  a  few  of  the  counties  near  their  homes.  Mr.  Lincoln, 
however,  rode  the  entire  circuit  to  all  of  the  courts,  which  lasted  about  three 
months  in  the  spring  and  three  in  the  fall.  Most  of  the  lawyers  rode  horseback. 
After  a  few  years  my  father,  who  was  the  circuit  judge,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  were 
able  to  afford  a  buggy.  My  father,  who  was  a  very  heavy  man,  used  two  horses. 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  a  one-horse  open  buggy  and  drove  his  horse,  'Old  Buck,'  as  I 
remember  his  name.  In  the  fall  of  1850,  when  I  was  8  years  old,  my  mother 
went  around  the  circuit  with  my  father  and  Mr.  Lincoln  took  me  in  his  buggy.  I 
have  a  distinct  recollection  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  the  horse  and  the  buggy,  but  can  not 
remember  much  of  what  Mr.  Lincoln  said." 

Boylike,  Mr.  Davis  received  some  impressions  on  that  trip  which  he  recalled 
fifty  years  later.  At  Danville  he  saw  his  first  coal  fire,  except  in  a  forge,  and 
amused  himself  heating  and  bending  the  poker.  At  Springfield  the  state's 
attorney,  Mr.  Campbell,  delighted  the  boy  with  the  gift  of  some  percussion  caps, 
which  Master  George  proceeded  to  explode  upon  the  wheels  of  Mr.  Lincoln's 
buggy,  getting  some  of  the  copper  into  his  face.  One  incident  was  very 
characteristic  of  the  age  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  associate  on  the  memorable  trip.  The 


66  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

boy  wished  to  know  from  his  own  observation  how  tall  Mr.  Lincoln  was.  And 
the  lawyer  was  obliging. 

"Mr.  Lincoln,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  "was  very  tall,  6  feet  4^  inches,  as  I  measured 
him  although  he  gives  it  himself  in  his  autobiography,  addressed  to  Jesse  W. 
Fell,  at  6  feet  4  inches  nearly;  but  when  he  became  much  interested  in  his  speech 
he  looked  as  if  he  was  8  feet  high." 

At  the  home  of  his  friend,  Judge  Davis,  Mr.  Lincoln  spent  considerable  time 
in  1858,  "while  he  was  writing  some  of  his  debates  with  Mr.  Douglas,"  George 
Perrin  Davis  recalled.  Most  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  speeches  were  not  written  out  in 
advance  of  delivery.  Those  for  the  joint  debates  were  prepared  with  extra- 
ordinary care. 

"Mr.  Lincoln,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  "did  not  care  much  about  dress,  though  he 
was  always  clean.  I  thought  his  clothes  were  too  short  for  him,  especially  his 
coat.  For  a  necktie  he  wore  an  old-fashioned  stiff  stock,  which  clasped  around 
his  neck.  When  he  got  interested  in  his  speech  he  would  take  it  off  and  unbutton 
his  shirt  and  give  room  for  his  Adam's  apple  to  play  up  and  down.  He  had  a 
clear  voice  that  could  be  heard  a  great  distance,  every  word  of  a  sentence  equally 
clear,  a  great  contrast  to  Mr.  Douglas,  who  failed  sometimes  to  send  every  word 
the  same  distance.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  clean  shaven  until  he  was  elected  president." 

The  historical  society  at  Bloomington  preserves  as  one  of  its  most  valued 
records  the  tribute  paid  by  Senator  Daniel  W.  Voorhees  of  Indiana,  who  as  a 
young  lawyer  practiced  in  the  courts  of  Illinois  along  the  Indiana  line  and  met 
Mr.  Lincoln  and  Judge  Davis  frequently.  Of  Lincoln  and  Douglas,  Senator 
Voorhees  wrote: 

"They  made  such  an  impression  on  me  as  no  two  other  men  whom  I  have 
met  in  the  tide  of  time  or  of  whom  I  have  read  in  the  realm  of  history." 


George  T.  M.  Davis,  the  Alton  editor,  twenty-five  years  the  friend  of  Lincoln, 
left  his  family  an  unpublished  autobiography.  A  limited  number  of  copies  was 
printed  and  given  to  personal  friends.  In  this  way  has  been  preserved  the  narra- 
tive of  an  incident  revealing  Lincoln,  the  father.  Affection  for  his  sons  was  a 
marked  trait  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  There  are  many  stories  illustrative  of  that.  But 
the  methods  Mr.  Lincoln  employed  to  instill  into  the  minds  of  his  boys  the 
cardinal  virtues  have  received  little  attention  from  the  biographers.  Mr.  Davis 
told  what  he  witnessed  on  one  occasion: 

"I  made  a  visit  on  business  one  summer  to  Springfield,  where  Mr.  Lincoln 
resided.  While  I  was  standing  on  the  sidewalk,  on  the  shady  side  of  the  hotel 
where  I  was  stopping,  Mr.  Lincoln  came  along  with  his  youngest  pet  boy,  Tad, 
who  was  holding  on  to  the  tip  of  the  tail  of  father's  frock  coat.  We  drew  up 
chairs  in  the  shade  and  at  once  engaged  in  talking  politics.  Tad  changed  his 
position  by  taking  refuge  between  his  father's  knees,  and  remained  there  a  silent 
listener  during  our  conversation.  In  a  short  time  Bob,  who  was  considerably 
older  than  Tad,  came  along,  and,  noticing  us,  also  stopped  and  joined  our  circle. 
In  a  side  conversation  that  ensued  between  the  two  brothers,  the  purport  of  which 
I  had  not  noticed,  something  was  said  that  induced  their  father  to  pause  for  a 
moment  in  his  talk  with  me,  and,  turning  to  the  boys,  he  exclaimed: 

"  'Tad,  show  Mr.  Davis  the  knife  I  bought  you  yesterday,'  and,  turning  to 
me,  he  added,  'It's  the  first  knife  Tad  ever  had,  and  it's  a  big  thing  for  him.' 

"Tad  hesitating  and  making  no  reply,  his  father  asked.  'You  haven't  lost  your 
knife,  have  you?' 


The  Friend  of  the  Boys  67 

"  'No,  but  I  ain't  got  any,'  the  boy  said. 

"'What  has  become  of  it?'  inquired  Mr.  Lincoln  in  his  quizzical  and  usual 
smiling,  pleasant  way.  There  was  another  momentary  pause  on  the  part  of 
Tad,  when  he  replied  to  his  father,  in  the  fullness  of  his  childish  simplicity,  and 
the  truthfulness  which  was  a  prominent  element  of  his  birthright: 

"  'Bob  told  me  if  he  was  me,  he'd  swap  my  knife  for  candy.' 

"At  this  Mr.  Lincoln  gave  one  of  his  good-natured  laughs,  and  turning  to  Bob 
— who  by  this  time  bore  somewhat  the  semblance  of  slight  embarrassment — 
but  without  the  slighest  change  in  either  his  merry  tone  or  manner,  asked: 

"  'Bob,  how  much  did  you  pay  for  that  candy?' 

"Bob  naming  the  price,  his  father  said  to  him,  'Why,  Tad's  knife  cost  three 
bits  (37^  cents);  do  you  think  you  made  a  fair  trade  with  Tad?' 

"Bob,  in  a  prompt  and  manly  tone,  which  I  shall  never  forget,  answered  his 
father,  'No,  sir/  and  taking  the  knife  out  of  his  pocket,  said  'Here,  Tad,  is  your 
knife,'  which  Tad,  with  evident  delight,  took  back,  but  without  a  word  of  com- 
ment. Their  father,  however,  said  to  the  eldest: 

"  'I  guess,  Bob,  that's  about  right  on  your  part,  and  now,  Tad,  as  you've 
got  your  knife,  you  must  give  back  to  Bob  the  candy  he  gave  you  for  the  knife.' 

"Tad  exclaimed,  'I  can't,  'cause  I  ate  up  all  the  candy  Bob  give  me,  and  I 
ain't  got  no  money  to  buy  it.' 

"'Oh!'  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  'what  will  you  do  them?  Bob  must  have  his  candy 
back  to  make  things  square  between  you.' 

"Tad  was  evidently  in  a  quandary,  and  was  at  a  loss  how  to  get  out  of  it, 
but  his  father,  after  waiting  a  few  moments,  and  without  making  the  slightest 
comment,  handed  Tad  a  bit  (12}4  cents).  Tad  looked  at  it  with  a  good  deal  of 
satisfaction  and  shrieked  out  in  his  boyish  glee: 

"  'Come  on,  Bob,  I'll  get  your  candy  back  for  you.' 

"Both  the  father  and  I  joined  in  a  hearty  laugh,  and  as  the  boys  started  off 
Mr.  Lincoln  called  out  to  them: 

"  'Boys,  I  reckon  that's  about  right  between  you.  Bob,  do  you  take  Tad 
right  home  as  soon  as  he  has  paid  you  the  candy.' 

"Such  was  the  sense  and  conviction  of  duty,  justice,  honor,  integrity  and 
truthfulness  of  Abraham  Lincoln." 


Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  the  same  story  more  than  once,  or  to 
vary  it  to  make  the  application  fit.  He  also  modified  or  amended  those  apt  say- 
ings, which  will  never  die,  in  order  that  they  might  suit  different  occasions.  Maj. 
William  K.  Patrick  of  St.  Louis  recalled  the  story  about  the  brand  of  whiskey 
which  Grant  drank,  but  he  obtained  it  from  another  source  than  the  late  Henry 
T.  Blow,  and  in  somewhat  different  form  from  the  version  which  William  Hyde 
used  to  tell.  Mr.  Hyde,  afterwards  editor,  was  a  reporter  of  the  Missouri  Repub- 
lican when  Mr.  Blow  brought  the  story  to  St.  Louis  from  Washington,  during 
the  war,  and  gave  it  local  currency. 

"The  story  as  I  heard  it,"  said  Maj.  Patrick,  "was  that  President  Lincoln 
made  use  of  the  inquiry  in  conversation  with  Capt.  W.  J.  Kountz.  Capt.  Kountz, 
a  wealthy  steamboatman  from  Pittsburg,  had  obtained  from  the  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  through  his  Pennsylvania  friends,  a  permit  to  buy  cotton  outside  the 
Union  military  lines  and  ship  the  same  up  North.  Capt.  Kountz' presented  the 
permit  to  Gen.  Grant,  who  refused  to  allow  the  agents  of  the  captain  to  go 
beyond  the  military  lines  around  Memphis.  The  captain  was  very  indignant  at 


68  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

being  turned  down,  and  took  himself  back  to  Washington.  Calling  on  Mr.  Lin- 
coln, he  stated  his  case,  and  demanded  that  Gen.  Grant  be  relieved  as  commander 
of  the  Department  of  the  Tennessee.  To  make  his  case  as  strong  as  possible, 
he  said  that  Gen.  Grant  was  a  hard  drinker.  Mr.  Lincoln  listened  with  his  usual 
patience  to  the  tirade  and  asked  Capt.  Kountz  what  brand  of  whiskey  Gen.  Grant 
used.  The  captain  said  he  didn't  know.  Then  Mr.  Lincoln  said:  'Find  out  and 
let  me  know,  so  I  can  send  a  barrel  to  each  of  my  generals.' " 


Mr.  Lincoln's  different  ways  of  telling  the  same  story  was  illustrated  in  con- 
nection with  the  historic  joint  debates.  At  one  of  those  meetings  Mr.  Douglas 
said  something  half-way  complimentary  to  Mr.  Lincoln.  When  Mr.  Lincoln 
arose  he  acknowledged  the  consideration  of  Senator  Douglas,  and  added  he  felt 
a  good  deal  as  did  the  Hoosier  who  said  he  liked  gingerbread  better  than  any- 
body on  this  earth,  and  got  less  of  it  than  anybody  on  this  earth.  In  as  much  as 
Senator  Douglas  had  been  anything  but  complimentary  before  that  meeting,  and 
in  as  much  as  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  unmercifully  abused  and  misrepresented  by 
the  opposition  from  the  beginning  of  the  debates  up  to  that  time,  the  Hoosier 
story  caught  the  popular  sense  of  humor  and  made  a  great  hit.  That  was  in  1858. 
Several  years  afterwards,  while  he  was  in  the  White  House,  President  Lincoln 
made  use  of  the  same  story,  but  amplified  it,  showing  its  origin.  The  application 
was  as  happy  as  that  in  response  to  Douglas'  faint  praise.  A  Southerner,  who 
had  not  gone  with  the  Confederacy,  but  who  had  remained  in  Washington  and 
had  gradually  overcome  his  intense  personal  prejudices  toward  Mr.  Lincoln  after 
several  interviews  with  him,  said  to  the  president  one  day  that  he  had  heard 
everything  mean  about  him  that  could  be  said  of  a  man  except  one  failing;  he 
had  never  heard  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  too  fond  of  the  pleasures  of  life.  Mr. 
Lincoln  looked  thoughtful  at  his  rather  meager,  if  not  begrudged,  tribute,  and 
after  a  little  hesitation  said  he  was  reminded  of  what  a  boy  had  said  to  him  when 
he  was  quite  small. 

"Once  in  awhile  my  mother  used  to  get  some  sorghum  and  ginger  and  make 
some  gingerbread,"  was  the  way  Mr.  Lincoln  told  it.  "It  wasn't  often,  and  it 
was  our  biggest  treat.  One  day  I  smelled  the  gingerbread  and  came  into  the 
house  to  get  my  share  while  it  was  hot.  My  mother  had  baked  me  three  ginger- 
bread men.  I  took  them  out  under  a  hickory  tree  to  eat  them.  There  was  a 
family  near  us  that  was  a  little  poorer  than  we  were,  and  their  boy  came  along 
as  I  sat  down. 

"'Abe,'  he  said,  'gimme  a  man?' 

"I  gave  him  one.  He  crammed  it  into  his  mouth  in  two  bites  and  looked  at 
me  while  I  was  biting  the  legs  from  my  first  one. 

"  'Abe,1  he  said,  'gimme  that  other'n.' 

"I  wanted  it  myself,  but  I  gave  it  to  him,  and  as  it  followed  the  first  I  said 
to  him,  'You  seem  to  like  gingerbread?' 

"  'Abe,'  he  said,  'I  don't  suppose  there's  anybody  on  this  earth  likes  ginger- 
bread better'n  I  do.'  He  drew  a  long  breath  before  he  added,  'and  I  don't  suppose 
there's  anybody  on  this  earth  gets  less'n  I  do.' " 

The  old  Southerner  who  told  this  remarked  that  when  Mr.  Lincoln  had 
finished  the  story  there  didn't  seem  to  be  anything  more  to  be  said. 


The  Bixby  Collection 


Abraham  Lincoln  stands  at  the  head  of  the  class  of  American  presidents  in 
penmanship,  in  spelling,  in  punctuation  and  in  grammatical  construction.  "Awk- 
ward," "uncouth,"  "ungainly"  are  some  of  the  adjectives  used  to  describe  him 
physically.  And  yet  when  Mr.  Lincoln  took  pen  in  hand  he  wrote  "like  copper- 
plate." The  letters  were  distinct.  The  words  were  complete.  The  writing  was 
as  easily  read  as  print.  There  was  mechanical  finish  and  perfection  about  a 
specimen  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  writing,  whether  he  used  the  old  quill,  the  pencil  or 
the  pen.  Eugene  Field,  the  poet,  wrote  a  style  that  was  very  like  that  of  Mr. 
Lincoln.  At  the  age  of  23  Mr.  Lincoln  could  have  qualified  for  teacher  of  pen- 
manship in  a  commercial  college.  At  the  age  of  50,  with  the  crowded  law  practice 
and  with  the  rush  of  political  correspondence  upon  him,  he  did  not  do  as  fine 
pen  work  as  in  his  younger  days.  When  he  began  law  practice  he  had  time  to 
carry  out  his  liking  for  a  beautifully  written  page.  Some  of  the  legal  papers  pre- 
pared in  that  period  of  his  career  are  marvelously  well  done.  The  lines  are 
written  as  regularly  as  if  the  paper  was  ruled.  Every  "t"  is  crossed.  Every 
comma  requisite  is  in  place.  Not  a  misspelled  word  can  be  found.  Seldom 
a  correction  was  made  after  the  first  draft.  As  a  rule  interlineations  in  any- 
thing written  by  Mr.  Lincoln — legal  document,  letter  or  speech — were  rare,  even 
in  the  later  days,  when  the  exercise  of  care  in  the  writing  is  not  so  evident. 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  at  all  boastful  of  his  superiority  as  a  writer.  The  biogra- 
phers record  that  when,  just  old  enough  to  vote,  he  was  asked  at  the  polling  place 
in  New  Salem  if  he  could  write,  he  replied,  "A  little  bit.  I  can  make  a  few 
rabbit  tracks."  This  sounds  like  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  yet  it  was  strange  that  a 
young  man  who  wrote  such  an  unusual  hand  as  he  did  should  have  been  asked 
that  question  by  one  of  his  neighbors. 

To  write  was  a  family  characteristic  of  the  Lincolns.  The  president  had 
first  cousins,  sons  of  his  father's  brother,  who  wrote  in  plain  legible  style  much 
better  than  the  average  person  of  their  day.  None  of  them  wrote  as  well  as  did 
Abraham  Lincoln  of  Sangamon.  Whence  came  this  accomplishment?  Lincoln 
had  it  from  the  time  he  was  a  very  young  man.  He  was  self  educated,  but  this 
gift  of  superior  handwriting  was  an  inheritance  and  it  came  with  the  steady 
nerves  and  the  equable  disposition  on  the  Lincoln  side  of  the  house. 

While  Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  make  boast  of  his  skill  with  the  pen,  he  indirectly 
let  it  be  seen  that  he  scrutinized  the  composition  of  the  other  fellow.  In  one 
case,  the  papers  of  which  have  been  preserved  in  the  county  where  the  trial  took 
place,  Mr.  Lincoln  wrote  that  the  indictment  was  bad,  "in  that  it  does  not  show 
with  sufficient  certainty  whether  the  defendant  was  the  murderer  of  the  mur- 
dered man." 

Painstaking  is  not  the  word  that  applies  to  Lincoln's  writing.  The  pen  or 
pencil  moved  over  the  page  easily,  naturally,  readily.  That  is  apparent  from 
the  style  of  writing.  Even  stronger  evidence  is  found  in  the  volume  of  written 
matter  which  Mr.  Lincoln  turned  out.  From  the  beginning  of  his  career  as  a 
lawyer  down  through  the  busiest  days  at  the  White  House,  Mr.  Lincoln  wrote 
and  wrote.  There  are  in  existence  letters  and  papers  of  his  penmanship  in  greater 
number  probably  than  any  other  president  wrote.  The  letters  number  thousands. 
Many  of  them  bear  evidence  that  they  were  not  answers  and  need  not  have  been 


70  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

written  and  would  not  have  been  written  by  one  to  whom  writing  was  irksome  or 
in  any  sense  a  task.  Lincoln  liked  to  write  so  well  that  he  very  seldom  dictated 
anything.  When  it  was  suggested  to  him,  in  1858,  during  the  campaign  against 
Douglas  for  the  senatorship  that  he  avail  himself  of  the  assistance  of  a  young 
newspaper  man  in  the  revision  of  his  speeches  for  the  press,  Mr.  Lincoln  declined 
with  a  smile. 


In  the  extensive  and  widely  varied  collection  of  Lincoln  papers  possessed  by 
William  K.  Bixby  of  St.  Louis  are  interesting  revelations  of  this  strong  writing 
habit  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  Whether  in  letter,  law  paper  or  state  document,  the  com- 
position was  simple  and  closely  condensed.  But  this  did  not  mean  that  Mr.  Lin- 
coln wished  to  get  through  as  quickly  as  possible.  It  indicated  the  habit  of  mind. 
There  are  very  few  letters  of  Mr.  Lincoln  which  exceed  a  single  page. 

Prince  L.  Hudgins  was  a  lawyer  in  St.  Louis  who  was  charged  with  conspiring 
against  the  government.  In  his  letter  to  President  Lincoln,  Mr.  Hudgins 
explained  that  the  charge  against  him  was  based  on  a  speech  he  had  made  in 
St.  Joseph  several  months  before  the  law  under  which  he  was  being  prosecuted 
was  enacted.  Congressman  King  presented  the  petition  and  recommended  the 
pardon.  The  president  wrote  on  the  papers: 

"Attorney  General:  Please  see  Mr.  King  and  make  out  the  pardon  he  asks. 
Give  this  man  a  fair  deal,  if  possible." 

And  then,  probably  after  a  little  further  conversation  with  the  Missourian, 
the  president,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  added  this  to  the  indorsement: 

"Gov.  King  leaves  Saturday  evening  and  would  want  to  have  it  with  him  to 
take  along,  if  possible.  Would  wish  it  made  out  as  soon  as  conveniently  can 
be." 

The  attention  which  the  president  gave  personally  to  even  routine  matters 
is  shown  by  the  instructions  and  comments  written  by  him  upon  these  many 
papers  in  the  Bixby  collection,  the  most  of  which  have  never  been  printed.  Upon 
the  application  for  a  judgeship  at  Plattsmouth,  Utah,  appears  this  in  the  well- 
known  hand: 

"I  knew  George  May  when  a  boy  and  young  man,  then  a  little  inclined  to  be 
dissipated.  If  free  from  that  now,  he  has  intellect  for  almost  any  place.  I 
suppose  the  within  names  ought  to  be  a  sufficient  voucher  as  to  that. 

A.    LINCOLN." 

"The  within  names"  indorsing  May  are  those  of  James  Harlan,  James  F. 
Wilson  and  James  W.  Grimes  of  Iowa.  Harlan  and  Grimes  were  senators  and 
Wilson  was  a  representative  in  Congress  from  Iowa. 

Upon  the  application  of  Judge  S.  P.  McCurdy  of  Missouri  for  an  appoint- 
ment President  Lincoln  made  an  indorsement  which  reveals  how  well  he  remem- 
bered the  sharp  division  between  Missouri  Republicans: 

"This  is  a  good  recommendation  for  a  territorial  judgeship,  embracing  both 
sides  in  Missouri  and  many  other  respectable  gentlemen. 

A.  L." 

Gov.  Green  Clay  Smith  of  Kentucky  presented  in  person,  it  appears  from  the 
papers  in  Mr.  Bixby's  collection,  an  application  for  a  pardon  in  behalf  of  William 
Duke.  Col.  Duke  wrote  that  "in  a  state  of  excitement  he  had  accepted  a  com- 
mission to  raise  a  regiment"  for  the  Confederate  cause,  but  had  reconsidered 
almost  immediately,  had  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  and  had  given  a  bond  of 
$5000  for  his  loyalty.  Mr.  Lincoln  wrote  upon  the  papers: 


The  Bixby  Collection  71 

"William  Duke  is  hereby  pardoned  for  all  offenses  herein  confessed  by  him 
up  to  the  time  of  his  taking  the  oath  and  giving  bond. 

A.    L." 

Then  he  gave  to  Mr.  Smith  this  note  to  the  attorney  general: 

"Please  make  out  and  send  for  my  signature  a  formal  pardon  according  to 
letter  with  my  little  indorsement  which  will  be  shown  you  by  Gov.  Green  Clay 
Smith." 

Upon  the  papers  accompanying  an  application  for  a  justice  of  the  peace 
appointment  in  Washington  the  president  wrote: 

"I  do  not  recollect  having  acquaintance  with  Esquire  Ferguson,  but  if  the 
commissioner  of  public  buildings  inclines  to  appoint  him  to  any  place  I  have 
no  objection. 

A.  L." 

In  forwarding  the  papers  of  Joseph  M.  Root  of  Ohio  to  the  proper  cabinet 
officer  the  president  wrote  upon  the  back: 

"Of  course  it  is  not  proper  for  me  to  indulge  my  personal  feelings,  but  I  am 
very  partial  to  Mr.  Root." 

The  papers  which  Mr.  Bixby  has  in  his  collection  come  down  to  the  last 
days.  There  is  the  pardon  of  James  McCan,  granted  on  the  22d  of  March,  1865, 
with  this  indorsement: 

"On  the  request  of  Vice-President  Johnson  it  is  ordered  that  a  special  pardon 
be  made  out  in  this  case.  A.  LINCOLN." 


The  kindly  consideration  for  others  which  was  shown  by  President  Lincoln 
was  marvelous.  In  the  closing  weeks  of  the  war,  with  a  multitude  of  matters 
pressing  for  attention,  he  went  on  examining  and  indorsing  this  endless  mail 
conscientiously  and  thoughtfully.  On  the  9th  of  March,  1865,  he  sent  an 
unsuccessful  candidate's  papers  to  the  Department  of  Justice  with  this  written 
by  him  on  the  back: 

"This  came  to  me  at  half-past  3  p.  m.,  after  the  nomination  for  district  attor- 
ney had  been  sent  in.  A.  L." 

Mr.  Bixby  has  a  letter  written  by  Mr.  Lincoln  to  O.  H.  Browning  of  Quincy, 
upon  a  professional  matter,  which  illustrates  the  aptitude  of  the  writer  in  coin- 
ing phrases  to  express  a  great  deal.  The  letter  was  sent  in  June,  1857: 

"I  learned  that  this  note  was  given  as  a  sort  of  'insolvent  fix-up'  with  his 
creditors — a  fact  in  his  history  I  have  not  before  learned  of.  Our  interview  ended 
in  the  assurance  he  will  pay  it  middle  of  June." 

A  copy  of  a  telegram  in  his  own  hand-writing  which  Mr.  Lincoln  sent  from 
the  War  Department  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  while  she  was  in  Boston  the  9th  of 
November,  1862,  reads: 

"Mrs.  Cuthbert  and  Aunt  Mary  want  to  move  to  the  White  House  because  it 
has  grown  so  cold  at  Soldiers'  Home.  Shall  they? 

A.    LINCOLN." 


72  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

Robert  Lincoln  in  Two  Crises 

The  visit  to  his  son  at  the  Exeter  institution  was  to  have  important  bearing 
upon  Mr.  Lincoln's  political  fortunes.  At  the  time  it  was  prompted  probably  with 
no  other  motive  than  a  father's  solicitude  for  his  eldest  son.  Robert  Todd  Lin- 
coln, in  a  reminiscent  talk  with  Frederick  W.  Lehmann,  told  how  unconsciously 
at  the  time,  he  had  been  associated  with  two  crises  in  his  father's  life.  The  first 
was  in  the  winter  of  1859-60,  a  few  months  before  the  nomination.  Mr.  Lincoln 
very  much  desired  that  Robert  should  go  to  Harvard.  Like  many  other  men  who 
had  been  denied  advantages  of  higher  education  he  was  determined  that  his 
son  should  have  the  best  that  the  time  afforded.  The  son  was  not  so  strongly 
inclined  toward  Harvard.  However,  in  accord  with  his  father's  wishes  he  went 
on  from  Springfield  to  Cambridge.  He  quickly  discovered  that  he  lacked  the 
preparation  for  the  high  standards  of  the  entrance  examination.  The  Phillips- 
Exeter  Academy  was  the  leading  preparatory  school  for  college  in  those  days. 
Thither  Robert  was  sent,  rather  reluctantly  on  his  own  part,  to  be  made  ready 
for  Harvard.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  so  deeply  interested  in  his  plans  for  his  son's 
education  that  one  of  the  strong  inducements  to  make  the  eastern  trip  and 
speak  at  Cooper  Institute  in  New  York  City  was  his  desire  to  see  how  Robert 
was  progressing  with  his  studies.  From  New  York,  Mr.  Lincoln  went  to  New 
Hampshire.  On  the  way  to  and  from  Exeter  he  made  several  speeches  in  New 
England.  Robert  Lincoln  said  to  Mr.  Lehmann  that  the  record  of  the  balloting 
at  the  Chicago  convention  a  few  months  later  showed  that  the  Eastern  States 
which  were  the  first  to  come  over  to  the  support  of  his  father  and  insure  the 
nomination  were  those  where  the  speeches  on  the  Exeter  trip  were  made. 

The  other  crisis,  in  which  he  unconsciously  had  a  part,  Robert  Lincoln  said 
to  Mr.  Lehmann  was  the  night  of  the  tragedy  in  Ford's  Theater. 

That  day  Robert  Lincoln  had  come  up  to  Washington  from  Virginia  where 
he  had  been  doing  staff  duty.  He  went  to  the  White  House  and  after  the 
exchange  of  greetings  was  told  of  the  plan  to  attend  the  theater  that  evening. 
The  President  said  there  would  be  room  for  him  in  the  box  and  asked  him  to  be 
one  of  the  party.  The  son  excused  himself  on  the  plea  that  he  was  tired  and 
would  prefer  to  rest.  Robert  Lincoln  told  Mr.  Lehmann  that  he  learned  after- 
wards the  one  vacant  seat  in  the  box  which  he  would  have  occupied  was  directly 
in  front  of  the  door  by  which  Booth  entered.  He  thought  if  he  had  gone  to  the 
theater  and  had  taken  that  chair  he  might  have  been  in  a  position  to  save  his 
father's  life. 


The  Courtship  and  Home  Life 

The  true  story  of  Abraham  Lincoln's  courtship,  marriage  and  home  life  is 
not  the  story  that  has  been  oft  told  with  variations.  It  differs  in  detailed  circum- 
stances and  in  general  spirit  from  much  that  has  been  printed  hitherto.  The 
ture  story  was  told  by  Albert  Stevenson  Edwards.  There  was,  at  the  time,  no 
one  living  so  well  qualified  as  Mr.  Edwards  to  speak  of  Lincoln  the  lover,  and 
of  Lincoln,  the  husband.  Albert  Stevenson  Edwards  was  the  son  of  Ninian  W. 
Edwards.  His  grandfather  was  Ninian  Edwards,  the  pioneer  governor  of  Illinois, 
coming  from  Lexington,  Ky.  Ninian  W.  Edwards  was  educated  at  the  old 
Transylvania  University  in  Lexington.  There  he  courted  and  married  Elizabeth, 
the  oldest  of  a  family  of  famous  sisters.  Ninian  W.  Edwards  early  made  his 
home  in  Springfield.  Sisters  of  Mrs.  Edwards  came  from  Lexington  to  visit 
her  until  one  after  another,  three  of  them,  Frances,  Mary  and  Ann  Todd,  were 
married  and  residing  in  Springfield.  The  third  of  these  sisters  became  the  wife 
of  Abraham  Lincoln.  She  wore  to  the  end  of  her  troubled  days  the  plain  gold 
band  placed  there  by  her  husband,  inscribed  "Love  is  eternal."  Town  gossips 
dealt  harshly  and  unjustly  with  Mrs.  Lincoln  in  the  Springfield  years.  Writers 
in  Washington  held  this  lady  up  to  ridicule  and  adverse  criticism.  The  makers  of 
Lincoln  literature  have  followed  this  lead  of  misjudgment  and  misrepresentation, 
even  to  the  present.  At  the  home  of  Ninian  W.  Edwards,  Abraham  Lincoln  and 
Mary  Todd  first  met.  There  the  acquaintance  grew  quickly  into  stronger  senti- 
ment. There  the  courtship  was  seriously  discouraged,  but  there,  when  family 
reasoning  was  unavailing,  the  wedding  took  place.  And,  finally,  in  that  home 
Mrs.  Lincoln  found  refuge  and  peace  after  all  of  her  sorrows  in  the  closing 
years  of  her  life. 


Albert  Stevenson  Edwards  was  a  child  witness  of  the  marriage  of  his  aunt  to 
Mr.  Lincoln.  He  became  the  favorite  nephew  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln.  In  his 
youth  he  spent  many  of  his  Saturdays  and  Sundays  at  the  home  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  In  later  years  he  lived  in  that  home,  having  been,  most  fittingly,  given 
charge  of  it  by  the  state.  Sitting  in  the  corner  room  of  the  home,  with  family 
reminders  all  about  him,  with  original  letters  and  records  at  hand,  Mr.  Edwards 
talked  frankly  about  periods  and  events  in  the  lives  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln. 
He  was  a  man  of  the  even-balanced  Edwards  temperament,  not  inclined  to  make 
gossip  and  parade  family  history,  and  consenting  only  to  the  conversation  because 
he  felt  it  a  duty  to  correct  so  much  of  misrepresentation  which  has  been  published. 

"The  acquaintance  of  my  father  with  Mr.  Lincoln,"  Mr.  Edwards  said,  "began 
before  Mr.  Lincoln  moved  to  Springfield.  Dr.  William  Jayne's  father  and  my 
father  went  out  from  Springfield  to  New  Salem  on  some  business  matter  and  there 
saw  Mr.  Lincoln,  then  quite  a  young  man,  about  25  years  old.  They  were  a 
good  deal  impressed  with  his  brightness.  Old  Dr.  Jayne  said  to  my  father,  indi- 
cating Mr.  Lincoln,  'That  young  man  over  there  will  be  governor  of  Illinois 
some  day.'  The  acquaintance  was  renewed  and  strengthened  when  Mr.  Lin- 
coln went  to  the  Legislature  in  1834.  My  father  was  attorney  general  of  the  state. 
To  the  next  Legislature  Sangarnon  County  sent  a  delegation  to  work  for  the 
removal  of  the  state  capital  from  Vandalia  to  Springfield.  That  delegation  was 
composed  of  two  senators  and  seven  representatives.  Sangamon  was  a  large 


74  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

county,  much  larger  than  it  is  now.  The  delegation  was  selected  with  care  for 
what  it  was  expected  to  accomplish.  Mr.  Lincoln  and  my  father  were  two  of 
the  representatives.  The  other  five  were:  William  F.  Elkins,  Dan  Stone,  John 
Dawson,  Andrew  McCormick,  Robert  L.  Wilson.  The  state  senators  were: 
Archer  G.  Herndon  and  Job  Fletcher.  This  delegation  was  known  as  'the  long 
nine,'  because  the  most  of  them  were  men  of  extraordinary  stature.  My  father 
was  a  man  6  feet  and  3  inches,  only  1  inch  shorter  than  Mr.  Lincoln.  McCormick 
was  a  very  large  man.  Elkins  was  the  smallest.  Together  those  nine  men 
measured  54  feet.  The  delegation  was  successful  in  what  it  undertook.  On  the 
25th  of  February,  1837,  the  Legislature  voted  to  remove  the  capital  from  Vanda- 
lia  to  Springfield.  Three  days  later  the  account  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
legislators  was  presented  to  the  Sangamon  delegation." 

Mr.  Edwards  crossed  the  room  and  took  from  the  wall  this  framed  record  of 
hospitality. 

Vandalia,  111.,   Feb.  28,  1837. 
Colonel  Dawson  to  E.  Capps,  Dr.: 

81  bottles  of  champagne  at  $2.00  each $162.00 

Drinks    6.00 

32  pounds  almonds   8.00 

14  pounds  raisins  10.00 

Cigars 10.00 

Oysters    10.00 

Apples    3.00 

Eatables    12.00 

Breakage     2.00 

Sundries    .  .50 


Total    $223.50 

Rec'd  payment  of  N.  W.  Edwards,  March  4th. 

E.   CAPPS. 

"Ebenezer  Capps,"  explained  Mr.  Edwards,  as  he  restored  the  bill  to  its 
place  among  the  relics  of  the  Lincoln  home,  "was  the  principal  storekeeper  at 
Vandalia.  It  was  about  that  time  Mr.  Lincoln  moved  from  New  Salem  to 
Springfield.  I  have  never  heard  why  Mr.  Lincoln  made  the  change  of  residence. 
I  suppose  it  was  because  Springfield  was  the  larger  place,  with  more  future  to  it. 
My  father  from  the  beginning  admired  Mr.  Lincoln  and  maintained  friendship 
with  him  all  of  the  time  afterward.  Mr.  Lincoln's  first  call  at  my  father's  house 
was  made  in  1837.  He  was  a  frequent  and  welcome  visitor  there  afterward, 
except  during  the  period  of  the  courtship  between  my  aunt  and  Mr.  Lincoln." 


"There  is  no  foundation  for  that  statement."  Mr.  Edwards  said,  with  empha- 
sis, when  reference  was  made  to  the  story  repeatedly  published  that  the  wedding 
of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  postponed  because  of  his  failure  to  appear  at  the  appointed 
time. 

"My  father  entertained  a  great  deal."  Mr.  Edwards  continued.  "He  kept 
open  house,  you  might  say,  in  those  days,  when  the  capital  was  being  moved 
and  established  in  Springfield.  The  governor  received  a  very  small  salary,  $1500 
or  $1800  a  year.  My  father  was  looked  upon  as  a  man  of  considerable  means. 
As  a  matter  of  public  spirit,  he  undertook  to  supply  the  social  courtesies  deemed 


The  Courtship  and  Home  Life  75 

necessary  at  the  new  capital.  He  gave  out  that  he  would  have  four  receptions 
during  the  session,  inviting  the  members  of  the  Legislature,  the  state  officers 
and  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  and  leading  lawyers,  dividing  them  into  four 
lists.  He  carried  out  the  programme  to  the  letter,  entertaining  that  first  winter 
the  entire  state  government.  There  were  many  relatives  of  our  family,  young 
ladies.  Father  was  a  great  hand  to  have  the  house  full  of  company.  In  the 
Legislature  of  1840  and  1842  were  the  young  men  who  afterward  became  the 
most  distinguished  in  the  state.  Lincoln  was  about  30,  bright  and  jolly,  and  a 
great  favorite  with  all  of  the  young  ladies  at  my  father's.  From  1837  to  1839 
he  was  one  of  the  most  frequent  visitors.  There  was  nothing  bashful  about  him. 
The  ladies  would  urge  him  to  call  again.  My  father  had  a  relative  here  from 
Alton,  Matilda  Edwards,  daughter  of  Cyrus  Edwards,  a  very  bright  girl.  The 
family  thought  that  Lincoln  was  much  taken  with  Matilda,  but  nothing  came 
of  it  beyond  story-telling  and  fun-making.  That  first  session  of  the  Legislature 
at  Springfield  the  House  of  Representatives  met  in  the  Second  Presbyterian 
Church,  the  Senate  in  the  First  Methodist  Church  and  the  Supreme  Court  in  the 
Episcopal  Church.  You  see,  Springfield  had  obtained  the  capital  before  provision 
had  been  made  to  take  care  of  the  Legislature.  My  father  felt  that  it  devolved 
upon  him  to  provide  hospitality,  and  so  it  was  that  his  home  became  the  social 
center.  My  mother's  sisters  came  from  Lexington  to  help  do  the  entertaining. 
Francis  was  the  second  and  Mary  was  the  third  of  the  family.  Mr.  Lincoln  met 
Mary  Todd  soon  after  her  arrival  in  1839." 


Mr.  Edwards  took  up  some  family  papers  and  showed  this  description  of 
Mary  Todd  as  a  young  lady,  given  by  one  of  her  sisters: 

"She  had  a  plump,  round  figure  and  was  rather  short  of  stature.  Her  features 
were  not  regularly  beautiful,  but  she  was  certainly  very  pretty,  with  her  lovely 
complexion,  soft  brown  hair,  and  clear  blue  eyes  and  intelligent  bright  face.  She 
was  singularly  sensitive.  She  was  also  impulsive,  and  made  no  attempt  to  con- 
ceal her  feelings;  indeed,  it  would  have  been  an  impossibility  had  she  desired  to 
do  so,  for  her  face  was  an  index  to  every  passing  emotion.  Without  desiring 
to  wound,  she  occasionally  indulged  in  sarcastic,  witty  remarks,  that  cut  like  a 
damascus  blade,  but  there  was  no  malice  behind  them.  She  was  full  of  humor, 
but  never  unrefined.  Perfectly  frank  and  extremely  spirited,  her  candor  of 
speech  and  independence  of  thought  often  gave  offense  where  none  was  meant, 
for  a  more  affectionate  heart  never  beat." 

If  this  is  a  true  analysis  of  Mary  Todd's  character,  and  there  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  the  sister's  estimate,  writers  on  Lincoln  have  done  his  wife  injustice.  Mr. 
Lincoln's  calls  at  the  Edward's  home  became  more  frequent  after  the  arrival  of 
Mary  Todd.  Other  young  lawyers  flocked  to  the  house,  among  them  Stephen  A. 
Douglas,  who  was  very  much  smitten  with  the  little  Kentucky  girl.  But  it  was 
not  many  weeks  before  Mary  Todd  began  to  show  decided  preference  for 
Abraham  Lincoln. 

"My  mother  and  my  father  both  liked  Mr.  Lincoln,"  Mr.  Edward's  said.  "Up 
to  the  time  of  the  courtship  they  had  made  Lincoln  welcome  and  had  encouraged 
his  visits.  A  cousin  of  my  mother,  John  Todd  Stuart,  was  the  law  partner  of 
Mr.  Lincoln.  But  my  mother  and  my  father  at  that  time  didn't  want  Mary  to 
marry  Mr.  Lincoln.  There  was  no  objection  to  the  match  on  the  ground  of  Mr. 
Lincoln's  character  or  social  standing.  But  Mr.  Lincoln  then  hadn't  $500  to  his 
name.  He  was  just  getting  started  in  the  practice  of  his  profession.  My  mother 


76  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

and  my  father  felt  that  he  could  not  support  Mary  as  they  thought  she  ought 
to  be  maintained,  and  for  that  reason  only  they  opposed  the  engagement.  Mary 
Todd  might  have  married  Douglas  at  any  time.  Shields  paid  her  attention  as 
did  others.  But  Lincoln  and  Mary  fell  in  love  with  each  other  almost  at  their 
first  meeting  in  1839.  Mary  was  the  belle  of  that  period  in  the  new  capital.  She 
was  full  of  jokes.  I  have  heard  them  tell  of  her  pranks.  One  day  she  was  down 
town  with  several  other  young  ladies.  Springfield  had  few  sidewalks  at  that  time. 
Mary  and  her  companions  took  a  dray,  climbed  on  and  rode  home  to  escape 
walking  through  the  mud.  When  my  mother  saw  that  things  were  becoming 
serious  between  Lincoln  and  Mary,  she  treated  him  rather  coldly.  The  invitations 
to  call  were  not  pressed.  This  didn't  have  the  effect  my  mother  intended.  Dur- 
ing 1841  and  1842  my  mother  did  what  she  could  to  break  up  the  match." 


Springfield  people  remember  Mrs.  Ninian  W.  Edwards,  the  eldest  of  the  Todd 
sisters,  as  a  lady  of  far  more  than  ordinary  attractiveness.  Mrs.  Edwards'  traits 
especially  fitted  her  to  carry  out  her  husband's  spirit  of  hospitality.  She  was  of 
gentle,  winning  disposition,  a  charming  hostess;  she  is  remembered  to  this  day 
as  having  been  the  social  leader  at  the  new  state  capital.  Mrs.  Edwards  did  not 
resort  to  measures  strenuous  or  extreme  to  prevent  the  marriage  of  her  spirited 
sister,  but  she  tried  to  avert  it  in  her  own  way  without  hurting  the  feelings  of 
Mr.  Lincoln. 

Lincoln  was  30  and  Mary  Todd  was  nearly  20  when  their  acquaintance  began. 
Lincoln's  law  practice  was  very  small.  He  had  been  admitted  to  the  bar  only  a 
short  time  before.  He  felt  the  weight  of  the  seriousness  of  the  objection  which 
Mrs.  Edwards  raised.  The  girl  was  deeply  in  love  with  him.  She  was  impulsive 
and  strong-willed.  It  fell  to  Lincoln  to  do  some  hard  thinking  for  both  of  them. 
That  he  had  periods  of  depression  and  despondency,  as  he  contemplated  his 
unfortunate  financial  condition  and  realized  what  was  expected  of  him,  is  not 
to  be  wondered.  Mary  Todd  was  highly  educated  for  that  day.  Mr.  Edwards 
preserved  an  account  of  her  school  days,  written  to  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Lincoln  by 
a  schoolmate  who  remembered  these  facts: 

"Mary  was  bright  and  talkative  and  warm-hearted.  She  was  far  advanced 
over  girls  of  her  age  in  education.  She  was  a  pupil  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  Ward. 
He  was  a  splendid  educator;  his  requirements  and  rules  were  very  strict,  and 
woe  to  her  who  did  not  conform  to  the  letter.  Mary  accepted  the  condition  of 
things  and  never  came  under  his  censure.  We  occupied  the  same  room,  and  I 
can  see  her  now  as  she  sat  on  one  side  of  a  table,  poring  over  her  books,  and  I 
on  the  other,  with  a  candle  between.  She  was  very  studious,  with  a  retentive 
memory  and  a  mind  that  enabled  her  to  grasp  and  thoroughly  understand  the 
lessons  she  was  required  to  learn.  Mr.  Ward  required  his  pupils  to  recite  some 
of  their  lessons  before  breakfast.  On  a  pleasant  summer  morning,  nature  would 
hardly  rebel,  but  what  an  ordeal  to  rise  in  winter  by  candlelight  and  make  the 
needful  preparations  to  encounter  the  furious  blasts!  I  have  nothing  but  the 
most  pleasant  memories  of  her  at  that  time.  I  never  saw  any  display  of  temper, 
nor  saw  her  reprimanded  during  the  months  I  was  an  inmate  of  your  father's 
house." 

The  education  that  Mary  Todd  received  included  the  classics.  She  studied 
Latin  and  Greek.  From  Ward  she  went  to  a  finishing  school  kept  by  Mrs.  Montell 
for  the  favored  daughters  of  the  blue  grass  region.  There  she  remained  four 


The  Courtship  and  Home  Life  77 

years.  Nothing  but  French  was  spoken  at  that  school.  All  of  her  life  Mrs.  Lin- 
coln was  a  thorough  French  scholar,  speaking  and  reading  the  language.  She 
read  the  best  French  authors.  At  this  school  of  Mrs.  Montell  Mary  Todd  was 
taught,  with  other  accomplishments,  dancing.  She  came  heart  free  to  the  new 
Illinois  capital.  One  of  her  especial  friends  in  Lexington  had  been  Miss 
Margaret  Wickliffe,  who  became  the  wife  of  Gen.  William  Preston.  The 
father  of  the  Todd  sisters  was  Robert  Smith  Todd,  descended  from  an 
old  colonial  and  revolutionary  family.  He  was  a  merchant  in  Lexington, 
and  for  some  years  president  of  a  bank.  His  first  wife,  the  mother 
of  Mrs.  Lincoln,  was  a  daughter  of  Maj.  Robert  Parker  of  Lexington. 


Mary  Todd,  of  the  best  blood  of  Kentucky,  fascinating  in  appearance  and  in 
manner,  intellectual,  educated  with  the  best  advantages  that  Lexington  could 
give,  quickly  fell  in  love  with  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  young  lawyer  just  starting 
in  his  profession.  Her  bright  sayings  became  the  talk  of  the  town.  At  least 
one  of  them  was  at  the  expense  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  It  is  told  that  at  a  social  gather- 
ing Mr.  Lincoln  approached  the  young  lady  and  said  to  her: 

"Miss  Mary,  I  want  to  dance  with  you  the  worst  way." 

The  pressing  request  was  complied  with.  A  little  later  one  of  the  other 
young  ladies  mischievously  asked  how  Lincoln  danced. 

"The  worst  way,"  laconically  replied  Miss  Mary. 

She  was  Miss  Mary,  for  there  was  between  Mrs.  Edwards  and  Mary  Todd, 
another  sister,  Frances,  who  also  spent  much  of  her  time  in  Springfield,  a  guest 
at  the  hospitable  Edwards'  home,  and  who  married  a  Springfield  resident,  Dr. 
Wallace.  The  Wallace  wedding  was  one  of  the  grand  affairs  of  its  time.  Curiously 
this  marriage  of  the  Wallaces  has  been  described  and  pictured  again  and  again, 
even  down  to  the  immediate  present,  as  the  wedding  of  Abraham  Lincoln  and 
Mary  Todd,  which  was  an  altogether  different  kind  of  an  affair.  One  of  the 
earliest  biographers  of  Lincoln  led  off  with  a  description  of  this  Wallace  wed- 
ding, mistaking  it  for  the  Lincoln  wedding,  and  other  writers  have  fallen  into 
the  same  error,  making  it  contribute  to  the  misrepresentation  of  Mrs.  Lincoln 
and  using  it  as  evidence  of  excessive  display  and  vanity  on  the  part  of  one  who 
was  to  marry  a  young  man  of  no  financial  resources.  The  facts  are  that  the 
marriage  of  Lincoln  and  Mary  Todd  was  an  unostentatious  affair,  taking  place 
on  short  notice  in  the  presence  of  a  few  relatives.  The  grand  affair  was  the 
wedding  of  the  sister  which  preceded  it  only  a  few  weeks.  The  biographer 
Herndon  made  this  mistake  of  confusing  the  Lincoln  with  the  Wallace  wedding. 
Later  writers  have  accepted  his  version. 


"When  Lincoln  saw  that  his  attentions  to  my  aunt  were  looked  upon  coldly 
by  my  mother  and  father,  his  visits  to  our  house  became  less  frequent,"  Mr. 
Edwards  said.  "But  that  did  not  mean  a  suspension  of  the  courtship.  Lincoln 
and  Mary  arranged  to  meet  at  the  houses  of  mutual  friends.  One  of  the  houses 
where  they  were  made  welcome  and  where  they  met  often  was  the  residence 
of  Simeon  Francis,  who  was  editor  of  the  Sangamo  Journal,  as  it  was  then  called. 
Afterward  Sangamo,  the  Indian  form,  was  changed  to  Sangamon.  There  was  no 
break  in  the  courtship  and  there  was  no  setting  of  the  date  and  then  postponing 
the  marriage.  The  courtship  was  a  long  one  because  Lincoln  was  in  no  condition 
to  support  a  wife.  The  two  remained  loyal  to  each  other,  meeting  from  time  to 


78  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

time  and  waiting  for  Mr.  Lincoln's  circumstances  to  justify  marriage.  Very 
shortly  after  Frances  Todd  married  Dr.  Wallace,  Mary  told  my  mother  that  Mr. 
Lincoln  and  she  were  going  to  be  married  that  night.  At  the  same  time  Mr. 
Lincoln  met  my  father  on  the  street  and  said  that  they  were  going  to  be  married 
that  evening  at  the  residence  of  Simeon  Francis.  My  father  said  to  Mr.  Lincoln: 

"'That  will  never  do.  Mary  Todd  is  my  ward.  If  the  marriage  is  going  to  take 
place,  it  must  be  at  my  house.' 

"There  was  an  immediate  change  of  plans.  The  arrangements  were  made  for 
a  quiet  wedding  that  Sunday  evening.  Word  was  sent  to  the  relatives  in  Spring- 
field. The  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  presence  of  a  few  people  thus  hastily 
summoned.  

The  wedding  took  place  on  the  4th  of  November,  1842.  Mr.  Edwards  was 
present,  but  a  child.  His  statements  as  to  the  circumstances  are  borne  out  by 
the  often-repeated  recollections  of  Mrs.  Lincoln's  sisters.  Mrs.  Dr.  Wallace  said 
again  and  again  that  there  was  only  one  ceremony  arranged  for,  and  that  there 
was  absolutely  no  truth  in  the  Herndon  story  that  Lincoln  disappeared  and  could 
not  be  found  when  the  hour  came.  Mrs.  Wallace  was  as  positive  in  her  correc- 
tions of  other  misstatements  made  by  Herndon  and  repeated  by  other  writers 
that  the  wedding  was  a  large  one,  that  Mrs.  Lincoln  wore  a  white  silk  dress,  and 
so  on.  The  Lincoln  marriage  was  a  quiet  one  by  the  expressed  preference  of  the 
bride.  According  to  the  very  clear  and  definite  statement  of  Mrs.  Wallace,  Mr. 
Lincoln  and  Mary  Todd  told  Mrs.  Edwards  on  a  Sunday  morning  that  they  had 
decided  to  be  married  that  evening.  Mr.  Lincoln  went  in  search  of  Mr.  Edwards 
and  told  him.  Mrs.  Wallace  was  sent  for.  The  sisters  hurried  the  preparations. 
They  yielded  their  objections  and  determined  that  Mary  should  have  a  home  wed- 
ding, instead  of  going  to  the  home  of  Mr.  Francis.  Mrs.  Wallace,  in  telling  of  the 
preparations,  said  she  never  worked  harder  in  her  life  than  she  did  that  Sunday 
in  November,  getting  things  ready  for  the  marriage.  Only  a  few  persons  were 
present,  as  Mrs.  Wallace  clearly  remembered.  They  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ben- 
jamin Edwards,  Maj.  and  Mrs.  John  Todd  Stuart,  Dr.  John  Todd  and  family, 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Wallace,  and,  of  course,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ninian  W.  Edwards,  and 
perhaps  one  or  two  others.  The  bride,  Mrs.  Wallace  said,  wore  a  simple  white 
muslin  dress.  The  ceremony  was  performed  by  Rev.  Mr.  Diesser,  who  came  up 
to  Mr.  Edwards'  house  following  the  evening  service  at  his  church.  After  this 
quiet  marriage  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  went  to  the  tavern  and  boarded  until  they 
were  able  to  furnish  three  or  four  rooms.  In  a  few  years  they  were  able  to  buy 
a  story  and  a  half  house  on  South  Eighth  street,  and  that  is  the  house,  enlarged, 
now  known  as  the  Lincoln  home. 


Following  the  lead  of  Herndon,  most  writers  have  made  the  marriage  appear 
unfortunate.  They  have  represented  Lincoln  as  unhappy  in  his  home  life.  They 
have  attributed  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  the  character  of  a  high-tempered,  extravagant, 
ambitious,  tormenting  woman.  They  have  assumed  that  Mr.  Lincoln  endured  a 
living  martyrdom.  Within  the  most  recent  revival  of  interest  in  all  pertaining  to 
Mr.  Lincoln  there  has  been  cast  reproach  upon  Mrs.  Lincoln.  A  sister's  testi- 
mony to  the  relations  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  is  far  at  variance  with  some  of 
the  printed  statements. 

"They  understood  each  other  thoroughly,"  is  the  language  of  one  of  Mrs. 
Lincoln's  sisters:  "and  Mr.  Lincoln  looked  beyond  the  impulsive  words  and 
manner  and  knew  that  his  wife  was  devoted  to  him  and  to  his  interests.  They 


The  Courtship  and  Home  Life  79 

lived  in  a  quiet  and  unostentatious  manner.  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  very  fond  of  read- 
ing, and  interested  herself  greatly  in  her  husband's  political  views  and  aspira- 
tions. She  was  fond  of  home.  She  made  nearly  all  her  own  and  her  children's 
clothes.  She  was  a  cheerful  woman,  a  delightful  conversationalist  and  well 
informed  on  the  topics  of  the  day." 

This  is  the  recollection  based  upon  the  observation  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
some  part  of  every  day  for  six  months  at  a  time.  The  sisters  and  other  near 
relatives  saw  none  of  that  unhappiness  in  the  relations  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
which  is  so  often  mentioned. 

The  marriage  ended  all  objection  or  antagonism  toward  Mr.  Lincoln  on  the 
part  of  his  wife's  relatives.  Mr.  Edwards  preserves  the  autograph  letter  which 
the  father  of  Mrs.  Lincoln  wrote  to  Ninian  W.  Edwards  in  December,  1844, 
showing  the  estimate  he  had  put  upon  Mr.  Lincoln  as  a  son-in-law  at  that 
early  date.  Mr.  Todd  wrote: 

"I  feel  more  than  grateful  that  my  daughters  all  have  married  gentlemen 
whom  I  respect  and  esteem,  and  I  should  be  pleased  if  it  could  ever  be  in  my 
power  to  give  them  a  more  substantial  evidence  of  my  feelings  than  in  mere 
words  or  professions.  Whether  it  will  ever  be  in  my  power  I  can  not  say,  and 
perhaps  it  matters  little.  I  will  be  satisfied  if  they  discharge  all  their  duties  and 
make  as  good  wives  as  I  think  they  have  good  husbands." 


After  the  marriage  Mr.  Lincoln  never  showed  any  trace  of  resentment 
toward  his  wife's  relatives  for  their  opposition  to  the  marriage.  With  Mrs. 
Lincoln  it  was  different.  She  had  said  a  little  defiantly  to  her  brother-in-law, 
Ninian  W.  Edwards,  before  the  wedding,  that  she  was  going  to  marry  a  man 
who  would  one  day  be  president  of  the  United  States.  In  the  years  afterward  she 
would  recall  those  long  months  of  courtship  without  home  sympathy  and  show 
that  the  memory  of  the  family  opposition  to  her  choice  still  rankled. 

"After  the  marriage,"  said  Mr.  Edwards,  "Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  visited  at 
our  house.  They  were  always  invited  there  on  social  occasions.  They  went  out 
in  Springfield  society.  I  can  remember  that  when  I  was  a  boy  the  trouble  Mr. 
Lincoln  used  to  cause  at  social  gatherings.  He  would  get  a  crowd  around  him 
in  the  gentlemen's  room  and  start  a  conversation,  with  the  result  that  the  ladies 
would  be  left  alone  downstairs,  and  would  have  to  send  some  one  to  break  up 
Mr.  Lincoln's  party,  in  order  to  get  the  gentlemen  downstairs.  Mr.  Lincoln  and 
my  father  were  always  very  friendly.  Mrs.  Lincoln,  I  think,  always  was  a  little 
cool  toward  my  mother  for  the  course  she  had  taken  to  discourage  the  engage- 
ment. But  my  mother  and  Mr.  Lincoln  were  very  friendly.  At  the  first  inaugura- 
tion Mr.  Lincoln  insisted  that  my  mother  must  come  to  Washington.  At  that 
time  my  mother  was  at  Andover,  where  my  brother  and  sister  were  going  to 
school.  When  there  was  affliction,  Mr.  Lincoln  always  sent  for  my  mother.  He 
had  her  come  to  the  White  House  and  remain  some  time  after  Willie's  death." 

The  best  kind  of  a  witness  to  the  home  life  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  Mr. 
Edwards. 

"I  used  to  come  to  their  house  Saturdays  and  Sundays  almost  every  week," 
he  said.  "I  never  saw  a  more  loving  couple.  I  never  heard  a  harsh  word  or 
anything  out  the  way.  Mrs.  Lincoln  always  spoke  of  him  as  Mr.  Lincoln.  She 
was  devoted  to  him.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  home  man.  On  Sundays  he  was  to  be 
found  here.  He  would  go  downtown  for  his  mail,  stop  in  at  the  drug  store  for 
a  few  minutes,  and  then  come  home  to  stay." 


80  A  Reporter's  Lincoln 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  were  very  unlike  physically  and  temperamentally.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  was  a  gentlewoman  bred  to  all  of  the  little  niceties  of  life.  Mr.  Lincoln 
had  grown  to  manhood  with  no  thought  of  some  of  the  customs  which  Mrs. 
Lincoln  thought  essential.  Of  several  ways  Mrs.  Lincoln  succeeded,  after  many 
trials  in  "breaking"  Mr,  Lincoln.  But  he  would  get  up  and  open  the  front  door 
when  somebody  knocked,  instead  of  waiting  for  the  girl  to  go.  To  one  of  her  rela- 
tives Mrs.  Lincoln  complained  of  this  habit  of  Mr.  Lincoln  as  a  great  annoyance. 

"Mary,"  said  this  young  relative,  "if  I  had  a  husband  with  a  mind  such  as 
yours  has,  I  wouldn't  care  what  he  did." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  showed  the  pleasure  this  tribute  to  her  husband  gave  her,  as 
she  replied,  apologetically,  "It  is  very  foolish;  it  is  a  small  matter  to  complain  of." 

"Mrs.  Lincoln,"  said  Mr.  Edwards,  "had  more  to  do  with  making  Mr.  Lin- 
coln president  than  many  people  think." 


KUTTERER-JANSEN 
SAINT    LOUIS 


